


know that you are still here

by nosecoffee



Series: nowhere else i'd rather be [2]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alana's Suspicion™, And wears those neon slatted Ray Bans unironically, Apple Pie, Baked Goods, Brownies, Camping, Can Heidi be MY mom?, Comedy, Connor works at Olive Garden, Cookies, Dialogue only sections, Dinner Rolls, Drug Use, Evan works at a bakery, Evan's apartment is secretly a greenhouse, Eventual relationship, Fake Dating AU 2.0, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fish and Chips, Fluff, Forgive Me, Galaxy Gals, Good Music, Humour, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I love Heidi, It's Almost Midnight, Jewish Evan, Karaoke, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Marijuana, Misunderstandings, New Conspiracy: Connor didn't finish the milk, Orienteering, Plants, Recreational Drug Use, Rock climbing, Sharing a Bed, She could murder me and I'd say thanks, Shitty 70's Remixes, Slow Burn, Tea, Texting, The Amazing Asshole Jared Kleinman, The Annual Murphy Family Ski Trip, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Cancelled Murphy Family Ski Trip, The Dangerously Competitive Murphy Siblings, The Mini-Golf Event, The Other Next Door Neighbour™, The Replaced Murphy Family Camping Trip + Connor's New Boyfriend, The Very Thin Wall That Seperates Connor and Evan's Apartments™, Tree Bros, Vague Slow Burn, Zoe drinks Arizona Iced Tea, Zoe's Suspicion™, arizona iced tea, because I'm lazy as shit, cakes, canoeing, fake dating au, fight me, fuck you, glamping, god im hungry rn, i honestly believe that she'd do that, im sorry guys, mini-golf, monopoly, next door neighbour au, the ones that were cool in 2012, trivia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-11-05 22:30:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11022918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nosecoffee/pseuds/nosecoffee
Summary: Zoe:don't do anything stupidConnor:like what? like get in on a scheme between me and my awkward next door neighbour where we pretend to date so that we both look less pathetic?Zoe:that's oddly specific. Just don't make any bad decisionsZoe:don't be that girl at the start of Lethal WeaponConnor:that girl at the start of Lethal Weapon wishes she was half as pretty as me(Or, Fake Dating AU 2.0, now with more baked good, drug use, plants, awkward bro blushes, Suspicion™, and kissing. Probably more kissing than necessary.)





	1. fade into the past

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'Requiem' from Dear Evan Hansen
> 
> Chapter title from 'Morning Glow' from Pippin (yes, I'm Pippin trash, fight me)
> 
> AAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHH IM DEAD INSIDE, RIP, THANKS FOR SUPPORTING ME GUYS
> 
> This is the first of three-to-four parts, and I'm uploading tonight because I'm tired of having this just sit in my drafts. Hope this doesn't let you down or anything!
> 
> (Oh, and by the way, please check out this bomb-ass drawing by @yakleaves for the earlier instalment of this series, it's awesome, their art is so good, https://yakleaves.tumblr.com/post/163048314723/one-of-my-favourite-scenes-from-nose-coffees)

Evan opens the front door, letting Connor in first, and they walk back into the apartment, together. Heidi's in the living room, now, smiling at the bonsai on the coffee table. She looks up as they reenter.

"Sorry, boys, about earlier." Heidi says to them, and then turns a semi-hard gaze on Evan. "And, Evan, honey, maybe you should have talked to Connor about boundaries, and such, just so that you both understand and know when you're ready to tell people."

Evan nods stiffly at his mother. It is in this moment that Connor remembers that the only previous encounter he'd had with Evan, while sober, was when he was naked and standing, drenched, in his bathroom. It hits him that he doesn't know a single goddamn thing about Evan, apart from what he's heard, and what he's seen. It hits him that they are both completely clueless about each other.

It hits him that hes made a huge mistake, walking back into this apartment.

There's no turning back now, though, so he takes a seat on an ottoman and smiles at Heidi.

"So," Heidi says, smiling back at him, brightly, "how'd you two meet?"

Connor immediately looks over to Evan, trying to convey _I remember exactly 0.3% of what happened last night, so it's up to you, now._

Evan gives Connor a look that Connor cannot read - but looks a hell of a lot like _what is this "lying" you speak of, and how do you do it?_ \- and then turns back to his mother.

"Uh." He says. "Well - I mean...we met because..."

Connor stares at him. So does Heidi. Evan stares at the far wall, and the tree growing against it.

"A-apples..."

Heidi looks between them, expectantly. Connor looks at Evan, and then of the bowl of apples on his kitchen counter.

They're still in a plastic bag, from the grocery store.

Evan's still stuttering, but it makes less sense than before, now.

"Evan, uh." Now both the Hansen's are looking at him, and that's the most pressure he's felt since...well, he never did exams, so he's not sure what to compare it to. "Evan dropped some apples in the hallway as we were both coming home, and I helped him gather them up."

Heidi smiles wider and Evan sends him a thumbs up. "Oh, that's nice. You should've seen my face when I walked in and your clothes were on his drying rack." She laughs. "I thought there might still be someone in his shower or something."

Connor laughs along, and they talk more ("Evan tells me you like macarons?" "Yeah, actually, he made these really nice chocolate ones, once-" "Oh, he's been trying to perfect that recipe since he was eight!" "MOM." "What?") ("Where do you work, Connor?" "Oh, I waiter at The Olive Garden, most nights. Sometimes, in the summer, I do some freelance dancing classes." "Wait, as in, like, _teaching_ them?" "Yeah, Evan. I'm sure I've mentioned this." "Oh, _yeah._ Right.") ("Connor, do you want to stay for dinner?" "Actually, I had plans with Alana." "Alana?" "My friend, she lives next door." "I see." "Mom, he's not cheating on me, and he doesn't have to spend every waking minute with me.").

(That's a brutal fucking lie, but Evan never has to know that he just wants to escape. Alana's going on a date tonight, anyway, with that cute intern from the library that she's been pining over for literal months. Evan never has to know that the only plans he has with Alana, are plans to ensure that she never finds out that this happened.)

(She'd fucking murder him, and she'd get away with it, without a hitch, Connor has no doubts about that.)

And, so, he retreats, leaving Evan to the mercy of his mother, and hoping that he doesn't blow their cover, otherwise the whole shenanigan was a complete waste of time and energy. And brain capacity. Wow.

Connor's really fucking tired. He just wants to eat some cake and go into hibernation.

~

All plans of hibernation aside, getting high two nights in a row is a rarity for Connor, but not impossible, and so, that's where he finds himself, after extracting himself from A Hansen Family Dinner™.

He's eaten a whole other quarter of the Preemptive Apology Cake, and is sitting in the bathtub, smoking one of the weaker joints he has left. He's running out. Connor should probably replenish before the month ends.

Fuck. What month is it.

Connor finishes off the joint and reaches for his phone, to check, only to find his lockscreen overflowing with text notifications.

It takes him four tries to get the phone open, and then, when he's exited Safari and opened up the messaging app, scrolls up to the top of the current conversation tat Zoe's still typing out.

 **Zoe:** what's this shit about you smoking again, assshole? I thought you were clean?

 **Zoe:** who broke your streak?

 **Zoe:** was it that stoner library chick? The one who's constantly asking you out?

 **Zoe:** I'll fight her

 **Zoe:** who hooked you up with a dealer?

 **Zoe:** I thought we agreed?????

 **Zoe:** I see you reading these

 **Zoe:** DOMT IGNORE ME CONNOR!!!!!!!!!

 **Zoe:** I'm coming over, tomorrow, mark my words

 **Zoe:** I will cut a bitch if you don't respond

 **Connor:** whassup

 **Zoe:** you're high right now, aren't you?

 **Connor:** what the fuck

 **Zoe:** you're usually a grammar nazi

 **Connor:** don't say that, when you say the word you give them power

 **Zoe:** you're so baked, what the fuck

 **Zoe:** who hooked you up

 **Connor:** I hooked myself up

 **Zoe:** liar

 **Connor:** im serious

 **Zoe:** I don't believe you

 **Zoe:** we're having a serious discussion over this, tomorrow

 **Connor:** bring iced tea, or you're grounded for a month

 **Zoe:** which kind?

 **Connor:** you know which kind

 **Zoe:** don't do anything stupid

 **Connor:** like what? like get in on a scheme between me and my awkward next door neighbour where we pretend to date so that we both look less pathetic?

 **Zoe:** that's oddly specific. Just don't make any bad decisions

 **Zoe:** don't be that girl at the start of Lethal Weapon

 **Connor:** that girl at the start of Lethal Weapon wishes she was half as pretty as me

 **Zoe:** promise me you'll be okay?

 **Connor:** promise.

 **Zoe:** okay

Connor turns his phone off, all thoughts of the month gone, and unabashedly passes out in the bathtub.

~

Connor wakes to loud frantic knocking on his door.

His apartment stinks of weed so he hopes its not cops or anything.

On the other side of the door is Zoe, holding some kind of cheesecake, two bottles of Arizona Iced Tea, and wearing neon slatted Ray Bans (the kind that were cool in 2012, and completely impractical), frowning.

"Who is the cute next door neighbour and why on earth is he leaving you baked goods?" She asks, slamming a sticky-note into his forehead and barging past him into his apartment, pushing her Ray Bans into her hair.

"Why are you here?" Connor sighs, peeling the sticky note from his forehead and ignoring her question, entirely.

"Mom and dad said you were smoking again so I'm on babysitting duty for the day." Zoe replies, breezily. Connor kicks the door closed and finds her in the kitchen, setting down the cheesecake and iced tea. "Also, you texted me a bunch last night."

"Stoned me is an asshole," He says, rubbing his temples, "No one should ever be in contact with stoned me."

"You shouldn't be in contact with stoned you." Zoe says, cocking her hip and crossing her arms over her chest, giving him a surveying look. "Jesus Christ, drink this and then go shower."

Connor takes the iced tea. "Why is everyone telling me to shower these days?" He asks, twisting the cap off and chugging a good third of it.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Zoe demands, already rummaging through his drawers for a fork. She emerges, triumphant, and immediately digs in, unceremoniously, into the cheesecake. "And I'm gonna need some kind of explanation about this cheesecake and the neighbour at some point. Don't think you're getting out of it."

Connor leans against the bench and sips more iced tea. "People keep telling me to shower. Like, a lot in the last 48 hours." Zoe eats a bite of the cheesecake and then seems to not care about anything else Connor was going to say, because she makes a noise he's never heard her make before and picks up the whole cake.

"You can't have this back," she says through a mouthful, "this is mine now."

"Jesus, Evan." Connor mutters.

"Who's Evan?" Zoe inquires, swallowing her mouthful of cheesecake, and immediately diving in for another one. "Was he the next door neighbour who left you this cheesecake? You need to utilise him, Connor, exploit him. I'm serious."

"Yes. That's Evan," Connor says, thinking this is perhaps the weirdest ways that Zoe's found out that he's dating someone, but not the worst. "And I have three quarters of a chocolate cake in my fridge that he made that's covered in chocolate filegree and Malteasers."

Zoe sets down the cheesecake and rushes over to his fridge, as if checking to see if he's joking. She turns to him, with wide eyes, when the fridge door swings closed. "Marry this boy, Connor." She seems completely serious.

"Close enough." He replies and watches her expression turn puzzled. "I'm actually dating him."

"What?" Zoe all-but shrieks. "When did this happen? Why didn't you mention it to mom and dad?"

"A couple weeks ago." Connor shrugs. "He dropped some apples in the hall as I was coming home and I helped him gather them up. I didn't mention it to mom and dad, because I was mad at them. Still kinda am. He gave me cookies as a housewarming gift."

"Oh, my god." Zoe laughs, running a hand through her hair, and making her neon pink Ray Bans fall onto his kitchen floor. She looks like she could care less. "Can you introduce us, properly?"

"I guess." He says.

"Right now?" Zoe asks.

"Right _now?"_ Connor repeats.

 _"Right_ now." She agrees.

He sighs, "I'll see what I can do."

Zoe squeals and goes back to the cheesecake.

Connor plucks the fork from her hand, and puts some on it. "It's technically my cheesecake, at least let me have some."

If Connor ever finds out how Evan seems to be able to bake things that taste like heaven, he'll die happily.

Connor picks up the cheesecake and runs from the apartment, knowing Zoe's hot on his heels. He knocks hurriedly on Evan's door, and Evan opens it in time for Connor to hand him the cheesecake and be tackled to the floor by Zoe.

"Take it, Evan!" He yells, seeing Evan's shocked and confused look. "Keep it away from her! She'll murder any in her oath for it!"

Zoe turns on Evan and Evan slams the door shut. "COWARD!" She shouts to the closed door and lets go of Connor's collar. "Your boyfriend is gonna hide behind a door?"

"If you continue acting like a rabid chipmunk who can only be sated by that cheesecake, yeah." Connor groans, picking himself up off the floor.

"Fuck, fine, I'll play nice, but you gotta let me have more." Zoe says.

"I will." Connor promises and turns to Evan's apartment door, hoping that this isn't a mistake. "Evan, can you open the door? I swear Zoe isn't gonna tackle you."

The door opens a crack. "You sure?" Connor can vaguely see Evan's face as he looks between him and Zoe. "It kinda looked like that video of the raccoon jumping at that guy."

"I can't believe that I know what you're talking about." Connor mutters and Evan laughs, a little, nervously.

"Thank god you do; that would be embarrassing if you didn't." He says.

"Hi, Evan." Zoe greets him, waving as he opens the door a little wider. "Can we come in? Connor promised I'd get a piece of the cheesecake, and I'm holding him to that."

"I see." Evan nods, sagely, and Connor admires him for putting up with this shit. "Come in."

"We met a few minutes ago, but I'm Zoe, Connor's sister." Zoe says, reaching out to shake his hand. "He tells me that you've recently started dating?"

"Yes. But you don't want to hear about that."

"I think you'll find I really do."

"Evan doesn't really like talking about himself."

"Then you can do all the talking, you seem to like doing it, seeing as though you never stop."

"Are you as sassy as her?" Evan asks, cutting a slice of cheesecake and placing it, carefully on a small plate.

"On a good day." Connor replies.

"Talk to me about this unlikely match." Zoe prompts them, taking the plate from Evan's hands gingerly.

Evan and Connor share a look and sigh, in unison.

~

Connor knocks on Evan's door four days later and immediately hears a strange noise that sounds a lot like flippers on hardwood flooring.

Close enough, honestly, because when Evan answers the door, Connor looks down, and he's wearing flip-flops.

"Um," Connor says, in lieu of anything else. Evan shuffles, awkwardly and Connor looks back up.

"Hi." Evan says. He's skimped on the polo shirt and khakis today, apparently, wearing pyjama pants and a t-shirt with Superman on it. "What's up?"

Connor holds up the packet he had been holding by his side for Evan to see. "I found out bacon chips were a thing, and decided I wanted to share the experience."

Evan puffs out his cheeks and looks at the packet and then at Connor. "Actually," he says, looking serenely amused, "I just finished dinner. But you're welcome to come in and feast. There's also leftovers, if you'd like to put them in the microwave."

"Oh," Connor murmurs, and follows his flip-flop-clad neighbour/fake-boyfriend into his apartment. "Okay."

He's back in Evan's apartment, because this is his life, now, apparently. Connor wonders if he'll ever get sick of this place and it's goddamn greenery. He's surprised he hasn't fainted from the overload of oxygen there.

Connor watches Evan bend to pick up a BIC lighter off the coffee table and slip it into his pocket.

He frowns, a little. "You smoke?"

Evan snorts, shaking his head. "No." He gives no further explanation. Connor shakes his head and sits down on the couch with a thump. He opens the bag and it makes a grating crumpling and crunching noise.

"So," he says, "why the flip-flops?"

"Easier than wearing full shoes, plus my feel some get so cold by touching the cold floor. And before you say 'socks' I'll tell you that it's so easy to slip over wearing just socks. Like _Risky Business,_ and then some." Evan appears again, flip-flops slapping against the floor. "Now, I know you didn't just come over to talk to me about the wonders of bacon chips."

"You're very perceptive." Connor agrees, a little startled at Evan's lack of a stutter. He doesn't think he's heard Evan get through a sentence without stuttering, before, but this looks to be the exception. "Look, I think we should talk about this whole fake-dating thing. Because I know next to nothing about you, and vice versa, so I figure we come up with a consistent backstory for parents and family and stuff, and plot our next move."

Evan appears to consider this, sitting down on the little green ottoman, across the coffee table from him. Connor puts the packet on the coffee table, an invitation should Evan consider it. "We need to get to know each other, first, yeah?" He asks.

"Yeah." Connor nods his head and sighs, running a hand through his knotty hair. It catches and he tugs harder, probably ripping out a few strands. Evan looks nonplussed at the developememt.

"Okay." Evan begins, and exhales shakily. "Well. To start off, I just turned twenty-one, so drinking's a thing now. _Yay._ Um, I work at a bakery a few streets over. I don't really have any extended family, except for my grandma - but I hardly see her anymore - and my central family is pretty tiny on its own. It's just me and my mom. My dad left when I was seven."

Connor nods along with the information. Tiny family, steady job, presumable light-weight. He files that away for future reference. "Um. I turned twenty-one in June, I work at The Olive Garden, and teach amateur dance in the summer, as well as tutoring kids at the library, sometimes. My mom and dad are together, though only god knows how. My younger sister, Zoe, who you've met, is twenty, and lives across town with, like, eight roommates. My dad's a lawyer and my mom's unemployed. I don't have any aunts or uncles or cousins, and my grandparents are all dead."

"I'm sorry." Evan looks earnest, and it's a nice thought, but Connor dismisses it.

"Don't be." He replies, breezily. "Okay. Tell me more about you."

"Cool." Evan says. "Okay."

~

 **Connor:** hey

 **Connor:** hey, loser

 **Zoe:** you will address me as "Your Majesty" and nothing else, dirtbag

 **Connor:** geez, I was gonna ask for help, but now I'm scared to

 **Zoe:** no, wait, tell me your woes

 **Connor:** how do you tell is someone's Jewish?

 **Zoe:** you ask them?

 **Connor:** no,,,,,,,,

 **Zoe:** yes?????

 **Connor:** what if you don't want to hurt their feelings

 **Zoe:** you'd legit just be asking "hey, my dude, are you Jewish?"

 **Zoe:** it's as simple as that

 **Connor:** that's no help

 **Zoe:** "hey, dude, I'm unobservent as fuck, are you Jewish?"

 **Connor:** how did you spell unobservant so badly

 **Zoe:** shut up

 **Connor:** I think Evan's Jewish.

 **Zoe:** you think?

 **Connor:** yes,,,,,,,,

 **Zoe:** you've been dating for how long now?

 **Connor:** about a month or so

 **Zoe:** and you knew him before this, right?

 **Connor:** a little

 **Zoe:** a little?

 **Connor:** I was kinda high when we met. I remember little to none of it.

 **Zoe:** jesus

 **Zoe:** look. what evidence do you have to back it up?

 **Connor:** I never see him on Saturday's

 **Zoe:**........

 **Zoe:** that's it?

 **Zoe:** you dumb fuck

 **Connor:** and I never get baked goods on Saturday, and he wear flip flops on Saturday, and I offered him bacon chips and he declined, and there's just so many things but I don't know how to ask him

 **Zoe:** what do the flip flops have to do with this

 **Connor:** they're not allowed to tie things on the sabbath. That means both fabric and shoelaces. He said he doesn't like socks, and I've yet to ask about slippers, but I suspect that that's also a no-go. A lot of forbidden activities are based around baking bread, creating garments, and other household activities like that.

 **Zoe:** oh

 **Zoe:** how do you know all this shit yet still be unsure as to whether your boyfriend is Jewish?

 **Connor:** I'm an idiot?

 **Zoe:** noted

 **Zoe:** look,,,

 **Connor:** he's a straightforward kind of guy

 **Zoe:** I'm sure it's fine, Connor

 **Connor:** really?

 **Zoe:** really. it's not a big deal. you don't have to make it a big deal. besides, he's your boyfriend.

 **Connor:** right

 **Connor:** okay

 **Zoe:** good luck

 **Connor:** whatever, Your Majesty

~

They keep glancing up at each other and then looking back down whenever they meet eyes.

Connor knows that Evan can sense his nervousness, but is being really polite about not talking about it. Connor guesses that Evan knows the feeling.

He wants to ask. Doesn't want to say the wrong thing, and ruin it, completely.

Doesnt want to be told that he read Evan completely wrong.

Connor doesn't want to mess up.

He doesn't know how to say anything.

"Connor?" Evan asks from across the coffee table. He looks up from his phone.

"Yeah?" Connor replies, clicking his phone off and sitting up properly on the couch. The fern slowly growing along the back of it rubs at his neck and he bats it away.

"Got something on your mind?" Evan's perceptive, Connor's give him that.

"Uh, yeah." He bites his lip, minutely. "Um, are you Jewish?"

Evan stares at him for a moment. And then the blank expression splits to reveal a grin. "...you didn't know?"

"Oh god." Connor groans into his hands, and laughs a little.

"I thought I was pretty obvious..." Evan comments, twiddling his fingers.

"Oh my god." Connor repeats.

"I legitimately made you challah, once." He actually laughs this time. "How did you miss that?"

"I'm an idiot." Connor says, by way of explanation. Then it hits him as he looks down at the near-empty bowl on the coffee table, sitting between them. "Oh dear god, I tried to feed you bacon!"

"Which I honestly find hilarious." Evan assures him and then bite some his lip and Connor's distressed demeanour. "Connor, it's fine. You're all good."

"Well, a lot of things make sense now." Connor says.

"They often do." Evan nods, sagely.

~

"What's good for you?"

"Handholding, kisses to the hand, cheek, forehead, hair, or nose. You can call me pet names, and drag me around for errands. Just normal couple shit. No kissing though. I'm not into PDA."

"That's fair. Sounds good."

~

"Wait so you said you taught ballet."

"Yeah?"

"Does that mean that you can dance? Like, ballet?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, not professionally, but yeah. And tap is my strong suit."

"Why not professionally?"

"I dropped out of high school in my senior year, never really went on to college."

"Oh. Well, I'd love to see you tap at some point."

"I'll keep that in mind."

~

"No way."

 _"Yes_ way."

"No. That cannot be true. There's no way that your high school had enough money to nab the rights for _Newsies."_

"And yet..."

"Unbelievable."

"I have video evidence if you're so disbelieving."

"There's no way that I'm not seeing this."

~

"Fun fact, if you watch very closely in the background during _King of New York,_ you'll see me out my foot through a chair, and be ushered off stage by the girl who played Katherine."

"Oh my god, shut up. No _way."_

"Yes way. You just gotta watch closely. I'll point it out to you when it comes time. Sorry about the shitty camera work. My dad filmed it."


	2. been getting used to waking up with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Replaced Murphy Family Camping Trip + Connor's Boyfriend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate formatting, please kill me, put me out of my misery
> 
> Anyway, here's the chapter I've been working on for actually ages.
> 
> Chapter title from 'Fire and the Flood' by Vance Joy

Two weeks from the day they hashed out the details of their fake relationship, Connor gapes at his phone. "Oh my god." He whispers.

"What?" Evan asks, looking up from the bowl of cookie dough he's mixing. There’s a bit of flour on his forehead. Connor wants the authority to wipe it off. He, instead, gestures vaguely to it, and Evan wipes at his forehead with the back of his wrist. Connor stifles a laugh at the larger streak of flour that’s on his forehead now, and focuses back on the churning in his stomach.

“Zoe told my parents about you." He informs Evan.

"Oh.” Evan unplugs the electric beater and ejects the beaters, immediately handing one to Connor. “That's bad?"

"Kinda." Connor shrugs and begins his assault on the reject dough on the beater.

"Why?" Evan inquires, wiping his hands on his apron, and grabbing a handful of cookie dough from the bowl.

"Because you know how I told you that they cancelled our annual ski trip because the Harris's bailed?" Connor clicks off his phone.

"Yeah?" Evan shrugs in the way that says _‘you probably mentioned it and I probably wasn't listening’._

"They've decided that we're gonna go camping instead,” Evan nods his head - _good choice_ \- and Connor continues, “and you're invited."

"Oh.” Evan looks up, halfway through rolling some dough into a ball. He sets it down on the baking tray. “I see the problem."

"A week, in a tent, in the wilderness, pretending to be boyfriends." Connor murmurs and rubs his face, letting the beater droop in his limp hold on it.

“Could be worse, right?” Evan says.

Connor shakes his head. “Don't ever say that to me, ever again.”

Evan laughs and goes back to making cookies.

~

Twenty minutes later, the two of them have moved to Evan’s living room while _Brooklyn 99_ plays on the TV and Evan flits around the room, watering each plant, methodically. (Connor had asked him why he was always doing things, never just sitting, Evan had replied that he felt a lot more relaxed when he had something to do. Which was why he hated having company over. Connor was the apparent exception.)

A notification makes Connor’s phone light up and he sighs when he sees Zoe’s screen name.

“Oh, thank god,” he sighs, reading the messages. Evan hovers by the couch.

“What is it?” Connor tilts the screen so that Evan can read the texts.

“False alarm. It's glamping.” He says, and Evan gives him a puzzled look.

“Glamping?” Evan repeats, like he's sounding it out, trying to figure out what this mysterious ‘ _glamping_ ’ is. Connor cannot blame him.

“Glamorous camping.” He clarifies, and clicks his phone off. “You get stylish cabins and room service and shit. It's not real camping, it’s lazy camping for the ridiculously wealthy.”

“...I see.” His tone implies that he actually doesn't, but if Evan’s not gonna tell him that he understands their weird rich tendencies Connor’s just gonna play along with him. “So, your parents are really going all-out on this, aren't they.”

“Nope.” Connor pops the ‘P’ and Evan sits down on the couch beside him with a whump. “This is a typical long weekend for the ‘rents.”

“Oh.” Evan shakes his head, obviously trying to process the information. “What brought this on?”

“Their need for ‘family bonding time’, predictably.” Connor tells him, and licks his lips, looking over to Evan. “Since we've supposedly been dating for two months already, they think it's alright to drag you out into the middle of nowhere for a week, with us. They just want to keep an eye on my so I don't 'relapse' again, and see if you're worthy, or whatever. We have to step up our game.”

“Oh,” Evan repeats, looking not thrilled at all, “good.”

A pause, filled in with the white noise of _Brooklyn 99_ in the background.

“So, what, exactly, does one pack for a glamping trip?”

~

“My mom checked up with the campsite to make sure that everything would be okay for you, like, they're not gonna serve you pork, or shellfish, or anything.”

“Oh, that’s cool...that’s really n-nice of her...she didn't ha-have to do that.”

“Evan, dude, I'm not gonna force you into a camping trip with my parents and totally disregard an entire part of who you are.”

“I…”

“Is next Sunday gonna be good for you?”

“To leave?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, um, yes. That’ll be fine. Um, I'll have to let work know. When will we be getting back?”

“Thursday evening. Supposedly.”

“That’s, um, that's great. Okay, cool. I think it’ll be fine, with the notice I'll give them, but I'll check up and let you know, y-yeah?”

“Yeah. Thanks, for this, Ev.”

“It’s all g-good.”

~

"You know that Evan and I could've driven up ourselves?" Connor says from the middle seat. Maybe he's just bitter that he lost rock-paper-scissors, but it's a fair question, anyway. "I do have a car."

"We know, honey," his mother responds, twisting in her seat to smile at the three of them in the backseat. "But your father and I thought it would be best if we all went together. Like all the family trips we'd take to New Hampshire, to see your grandparents, remember?"

Zoe snorts, already digging through her backpack.

"Plus, now we can listen to those old mixtapes you and your sister loved so much." Larry adds, nonchalantly.

Zoe scowls at the back of his head and stuffs her earphones back in her bag.

"Please, no," she mutters, crossing her arms and slumping in her seat, looking out the window.

Connor watches in frozen horror as his mother inserts a decades old CD into the stereo.

He's praying it's at least one of the good ones.

~

Connor thinks he fell asleep around the time _Stairway To Heaven_ began playing, head lolling dangerously near Zoe’s shoulder, but he wakes up when Evan begins to shake his shoulder.

"Hm?" He grunts, turning to look at him.

 _"American Pie_ started playing.” Evan informs him, as if this is a turn of events that he's enjoying, but is also shocked by. “Also you missed _Leather and Lace,_ and a fair bit of _ABBA.”_

Connor blinks, trying to focus on Evan’s face, and not his mother, singing, _"Well, I know that you're in love with him..."_

"Oh." Is his oh-so-eloquent response. Evan grins.

"Please _god_ tell me that you know all the words to every verse in _American Pie."_ He says. Connor stifles a sharp noise at Zoe’s elbow in his ribs.

"I'd be lying if I said otherwise." He tells Evan and watches his delighted features grow.

"Oh my _god."_ Evan breathes, grinning for the first time since getting in the car.

_"...rhythm and blues! I was a lonely teenage broncin' buck with a pink carnation and a pick-up truck."_

Connor meets his father's eyes in the rear view mirror and winks, joining in on his mother and Zoe’s impromptu three part harmony on the chorus.

~

"I demand we take a rest stop." Connor says after a full three hours in the car.

"If we take a rest stop now, Connor, we won't make it to the site before lunch!" His father replies from the front seat. They’re on their fourth mix-disc, one of zoe’s that had at least been made in the last two years or so. Didn’t mean it was good, but at least Evan would recognise half the songs.

"Please?" Connor hates saying please, but he hates his father more, so any given break from being in his presence will be a gift. Zoe seems to think likewise.

"Dad, I'll get you a coffee.” She says, clicking her phone off. “Does that sound good? You like 7/11 coffees."

Their father harrumphs. "Fine. But no dawdling!" And he indicates into the lane turning off the highway. Zoe and Connor fistbump. They pull up to the gas station, apparently his father had been ignoring the fuel gage for some time now and had finally given in.

Maybe he thought they could make it to the camp site on sheer determination? Connor’s stopped questioning his father’s methods years ago.

"Thank god!" Connor breathes, as Evan climbs out of the car and strides quickly into the 7/11 store.

Connor's quick to follow.

"How does your dad feel about...uh, drinks in his car?" Evan asks, giving the Slurpee machine a longing look. Connor purses his lips.

"Zoe offered to buy him a coffee, so I think you know.” He replies, heading towards it, ahead of Evan. “As long as you don't spill it, or leave the bottle in the car, he's fine."

“W-what about snacks?” Evan turns up beside him and picks up the smallest cup. Connor all-but sighs.

“Your funeral.” He responds, filling the largest cup with raspberry flavour Slurpee.

Evan caps his cup of cola flavour and turns into the candy aisle, Connor on his heels. “I’ll get licorice allsorts and share them with you if you d-d-don’t tell your dad.”

Connor frowns as Evan considers all different packets of licorice allsorts. “How do you know about my licorice thing?”

Evan shrugs and picks a medium-size packet. “Zoe said you had a k-kink and I was actually just kinda guessing.”

“I’m gonna murder her.” Connor sighs, like he’s been dreading making this decision.

“Better wait until we’re in the middle of nowhere.” Evan quips as they head for the register.

“Good plan.” Connor agrees.

“Plotting my murder, are you?” Zoe asks, coming out of the drinks aisle with a can of off-brand cherry cola.

“You’d be right.” Connor says. She bumps their shoulders together and joins them at the register.

“At least make sure my funeral’s stylish, boys.” Zoe says.

“Only the best for my sister.” The door dings open and their mother rushes past for the toilet. Apparently, she never got over her nap-induced-car-sickness. Zoe should have probably woken her up when she fell asleep, but, ah well.

  
~

Connor’s just finished getting their bags out onto the porch out front of their cabin when Evan comes out, wringing his hands. Connor leans against the railing. “What’s up, Ev?”

Evan smiles at the nickname (they never discussed parameters on nicknames but he doesn’t look fussed) and gestures, vaguely, towards their cabin. “They, um...they got us a cabin with...w-w-with one bed. So, uh, who’s gonna sleep on the couch for the s-sake of our joint dignities?”

Connor recognises the stuttering nervousness from their first meeting, as well as the tentative attempt at humour. What had changed from the gas station to here?

Apparently, the idea of sharing a bed forced all of Evan’s walls back up.

That wasn’t right.

“I’ll sleep on the couch.” Connor says, stooping to pick up his carry-on and carry it into the cabin, putting it on the aforementioned couch. “Or we’ll make a pillow wall. Or I can go and sleep in Zoe’s cabin - I’ve shared a bed with her before.”

Evan takes his Donald Duck carry-on and dumps it on the floor by the bedside table. “C-chill, Connor. I was j-j-joking.” He smiles, and it’s wobbly, but genuine.

Connor smiles back. “Okay.” They awkwardly moved around the cabin, unpacking what needed to be unpacked. “So, um, what do you wanna do after lunch? Do you like tennis? They have a tennis court, here, I think.”

“Actually, I saw a sign for mini-golf on the way in.” Evan says, and now that the stutter’s presence is missing, Connor can see the lack of how tense Evan’s shoulders were, the absence of Evan constantly wiping his hands on his khakis. He sees how soft and relaxed he is now.

Connor snorts, good-naturedly. “You’re talking to the long-reigning mini-golf king, here. I’ll fucking obliterate you.”

“I’m willing to take that chance.” Evan says to him, just as Zoe enters, wrapped up in her purple infinity scarf.

“I think I heard someone say mini-golf, and I am so down,” she says, leaning on the door jamb, and giving them both a level gaze, and a cheeky smile, “so long as it isn’t like Heathers and you aren’t planning to play ‘Strip Mini-Golf’ or something equally as gross.”

“O-o-oh my, _god,_ Zoe, _no.”_ Evan chokes, tripping over a chair. Zoe giggles a little and Evan rights himself. Connor gives her a dry look, leaning back on the heels of his hands, smushed into the coverlet.

“Mini-golf was mentioned.” Connor says. “If you want to join up, I’m sure that’d be cool.”

“You sound like dad when I suggested Evan come with us.” Zoe tells him.

“Fuck _off,_ you did that?” Connor gets to his feet.

She laughs, “It was my idea.”

“Oh my god.” Evan repeats, and he and Connor share a look. An incredulous look.

“Anyway, c’mon.” She gestures for them to follow her out the door, and they have no choice but to follow her outside, pulling on their coats as they close the cabin door behind them.

~

“CONNOR, YOU BASTARD!” Zoe cries as he gets another hole-in-one. He laughs and deflects her lash of the club with his own. Evan adds a third tally mark to the _Zoe Tries To Hit Connor With A Golf Club_ Record, at the top of their score page.

He gives them a thoroughly puzzled look as he sets down his own ball. “Why are you so competitive about this?” He asks them, hitting it hard enough to send it rolling into the hole of the plastic castle in the middle of this particular part of the course.

“A long-standing competition.” Zoe replies from where she has Connor on his knees, in a headlock with her golf club.

 _“Uncle, uncle,”_ Connor gasps, with a smile, gripping the club, and pulling at it.

“Connor’s won the last three times we’ve done mini golf.” She says, releasing him to gasp on all fours, and take her own shot. She misses the hole on the first hit, and on the second one gets it. Evan marks it down on the paper with a sheepish grin. “I'm trying to beat him for the first time in five years.”

“Mini-Golf King, here.” Connor rasps, getting onto his knees, again.

Zoe waves her club at him. “Don't make me hit you.”

“Pretty sure you'd get escorted out by security, if you did.” Connor replies to her, but flinches anyways. “Ergo, I win.”

“Uh,” Evan raises his hand, bringing their attention to him, “pretty sure you forgot that I exist, but if you're knocked out, and she’s been escorted out of the building, that means I win.”

“Suck up.” Zoe says, waving her club at Evan, and digging her golf ball from the hole, tossing Evan and Connor both of theirs.

“Boyfriend points.” Connor replies, getting back to his feet, and twirling his club around as they wander over to the next part of course.

“Brownie points?” Evan suggests and Connor bumps their shoulders together, smiling.

“Sure.” He says.

Zoe rolls her eyes. “Score?” Evan fumbles over the paper, handing the pencil to Connor to put behind his ear.

“Connor: 13, Zoe: 21, Evan: 8.” He reads out.

Connor and Zoe meet eyes. “Tackle him,” Connor says, and Zoe nods, dropping her ball and club.

“No!” Evan cries, but he's laughing, even as Zoe lunges for him.

~

Connor’s just finished showering when there’s a knock at the bathroom door.

“Yes?” Connor says, standing up straight and pulling his towel around himself to save himself at least a little dignity.

The door opens and there’s Evan, dressed in one of his nicer polos, and a jacket. His hair is slicked back, still a little wet from his own shower. Connor feels ragged in comparison, even though he's not fully dressed, with a towel around his waist and wrapped around his hair.

“Um,” Connor says. “Wow.”

Evan blushes, and Connor braces himself on the vanity. “Thanks.”

“How's your shoulder?” He asks, giving Evan’s aforementioned a soft squeeze.

Evan winces minutely, and shrugs Connor off. “I'm fine. Plus, I should be asking you about your leg.”

“I kinda deserved it.” Connor laughs, “I told Zoe to tackle you, and then tossed her into the mini-river.”

“I didn't know you were going to do that. And I didn't know she was going to kick you.” Is Evan’s response, and he puts a soft hand on the back of Connor’s wrist.

He swallows, subtly, _(he hopes),_ and nods, “Honestly, no wonder we got kicked out.”

“I don't think they're gonna let us back for a rematch.” Evan comments, his fingers inching slowly around Connor’s wrist.

“Whatever, you won.” Connor laughs again, but it’s shaky and he’s sure that Evan can hear it. “I bow down to the new Mini-Golf King.”

“Connor, I-” and Evan reaches for Connor’s shoulder, but his hands brush Connor’s ribs and he jerks, and his forehead knocks into Evan’s and then he’s slipping on the still-slightly-wet tiles and because Evan’s hand is still on his arm, Evan comes down with him, and the moment they hit the ground is, conveniently, also the moment that Zoe appears in the doorway.

They both groan in pain and she gives them an exasperated expression. “We’ve been here for less than half a day and you’re already going at it?” Zoe asks. “Honestly, I’m not even surprised. We’re heading over for dinner, so come and join us when you feel like it.”

She turns and walks from the cabin and Evan and Connor look at each other.

Evan lurches off him and dusts off his pants. “S-s-s-sorry, I’m so sorry. Connor, are you o-o-okay?”

He holds out his hand for Connor to take and Connor lets him pull him to his feet. The towel in his hair slumps off his head and onto the floor and Evan’s face goes scarlet.

“I’ll l-l-l-let you get dr-dr-dressed.” He stammers out, and backs into the door. Connor winces at the thumping noise as Evan’s head connects with the wood of the bathroom door.

“Why don’t you head up to dinner-?” He says, but Evan shakes his head hard enough to cut Connor off.

  
“No, no, I’ll just wait for you to be ready.” Evan shuts the door behind him and Connor leans on the vanity, giving his reflection a tired look.

How is it that he’s in this situation?

~

Despite the fact that Zoe caught them, pretty much naked, together, in the bathroom, everyone still seems stubbornly dubious over Evan and Connor’s relationship.

Maybe Connor's trying too hard. Maybe he should act a little more like himself.

Maybe then they’d believe them.

Maybe they're not trying hard enough, even though the softness between them seems to only grow. Maybe Connor doesn't have to fake his feelings half as hard as he thought he did.

Anyway, dinner is quiet, for some reason (maybe Zoe told their parents about the mini-golf event, or what she saw in the bathroom, or something equally as scandalous, in their parents’ eyes) so Connor keeps his head down and butters his dinner roll, roughly.

Of course, that’s where he stops because _where the fuck does someone get dinner rolls this good?_ Evan meets his eyes across the table, mouth obviously full of dinner roll.

They gape at each other.

Evan gives him an expression that says _bury me in a mountain of these._

Connor sends back an expression that he hopes conveys _the only way I want to die is if I choke on one of these._

Zoe gives them both a look that says _you can choke on this dick._

Connor flips her off and his father glares.

“So, Zoe said that you played mini-golf.” Cynthia says, pleasantly, over her roast beef.

“I tackled Evan,” Zoe says, through a mouthful of green beans, “and Connor threw me in the river.”

“Connor!” Larry exclaims, looking over to Connor. Connor raises his hands in surrender.

“What? She tackled my boyfriend.” He replies. “What was I supposed to do?”

“We got k-k-kicked out.” Evan pipes up and then looks down at his plate, dinner rolls forgotten.

“What? Seriously?” Larry gives Connor ano Zoe a hard look.

“A good first day, I think.” Cynthia says, beaming at all of them, as if nothing had happened.

Larry throws his hands up, a less sympathetic parody of Connor’s own action. “I can't believe you all.”

Dinner is good.

~

“So, pillow wall?”

“Sure.”

~

“I want you to be aware that I have never been canoeing in my life.” Evan says to him.

“That would have been good information for me to know before you got in the canoe.” Connor replies, looking over his shoulder to give Evan a concerned look.

He’s holding his paddle wrong.

They're both gonna die.

“You’re holding the paddle wrong.” He says, gripping his own, tighter.

Evan frowns in concentration. “How do you hold it, then?”

Connor purses his lips, and dips his own paddle into the water, propelling them forward an inch. “It doesn't really matter, so long as you paddle right.”

“Like this?” And Connor doesn't know what Evan does, but the next thing he knows the canoe is upside down ano they're both sitting in the freezing lake, drenched.

Connor spits out water, and hears Zoe cheering not too far up the shore. “You guys didn't even make it five feet out! Well done!”

It's true. They were basically in the shallows to begin with.

Evan smacks his paddle into the water in frustration, and stomps away, muttering something about _canoeing being dumb anyway and it wasn’t like he needed to know how to canoe to survive, anyway, so fuck that._

Connor huffs a laugh and gets up, wading out of the shallows towards Zoe.

“Your boyfriend gave up?” She inquires, grinning at him from the log she's sitting on.

“Yep.” He responds and sits down beside her.

“Well, maybe find an activity that he likes?” It seems that Zoe’s been expecting the fact that one or both of them will be soaking wet after this expedition because she drapes a towel over his shoulders. “I'm gonna play some tennis, if you wanna join me.”

“Tennis is the sport of the devil,” Connor replies, breezily, “as well as lacrosse and wrestling.”

Zoe snorts. “You do you, man, but I'm gonna fucking rule at it.”

“Whatever.” He stands and stretches as much as his body allows before shying away from the freezing air. “I need to stop Evan before he accidentally steps on some glass.”

“You do that.” She nods and goes back to her book.

~

  
“I can't believe you got us lost.” Evan huffs, looking down at his map, again.

Connor scowls and taps the side of his phone again. Google Maps, the love of his life, is not working.

“Look, we just took a wrong turn somewhere back there.” He replies, and looks back to where they came from. Connor had suggested they cut through the underbrush from the path to reach their goals faster. Evan was unimpressed with the idea to start with, but even more so when Connor honestly couldn’t find any of the goals. Or the path. Oops.

“I can't believe this is the way you make up for that disastrous canoeing trip.” Evan scuffs at the ground with his shoe, shivering in his puffy coat. (He never really recovered from falling in the lake.)

“Hey,” Connor crosses his arms and leans against a mossy tree, “you were the one who capsized it.”

“I never said I didn't.” Evan says, and continues on forward. Connor follows after him, because if there's one thing worse than being lost in the woods, it's being lost in the woods, alone. “I'm just saying that you forced me into the canoe in the first place.”

“I'm sorry, okay?” He says, and bumps Evan’s shoulder, gently with his own. Evan hisses and Connor winces as he remembers that that's the shoulder he hurt after Zoe tackled him, the day before.

“Apology accepted once we return to relative civilisation where the chances of someone leaping out from behind a tree with an axe and an intent to kill is minimal.”

“Your anxiety is an elaborate and complex thing.”

“You're telling me.”

There's a pause in the conversation as Connor raises his phone to about eye level and taps the side with his thumb. _“Work,_ motherfucker.” He mutters and catches the unimpressed look Evan is sending him.

“How long have we been gone?” It's an inquiry that sends Connor’s eyes flicking to the top of his screen. His stomach grumbles at the recognition that he hasn't eaten since the army buffet breakfast they'd grabbed before canoeing.

“Just under two hours.” He replies.

“Jesus Christ.” Evan sighs as they walk into yet another small clearing. It's pretty similar to the one they left a little bit ago. “I can't believe I ever suggested fake dating to you. If I hadn't, maybe I wouldn't be lost in the woods with you. I could be at home, watching  _Brooklyn 99,_ eating a bagel.”

“But instead, you're here, with me, lost, in the woods.” Connor’s tone is wistful, and he's a bout to continues when someone calls his name from the underbrush.

“Connor?” It’s Zoe’s voice. Oh god, is she lost too? Did she notice they were gone and come looking?

“...Zoe?” He calls back and inches towards the underbrush. Connor pulls a branch back and nearly laughs at his own stupidity as he takes in Zoe, standing on the tennis court, just outside the edge of the woods.

“Are you two okay?” She asks, looking over her shoulder at Evan. Connor realises what this means.

“Uh...yeah?” He blushes a little and looks at his shoes.

“Have you been going around in circles?” Zoe sets down her tennis racket and goes up against the chain link fence of the court. “Because I've been hearing you guys argue for about an hour now.”

“Fuck.” Evan whispers.

“Lost, huh?” Zoe gives them an amused look.

“Well, you believed me, didn't you?” Connor says, turning to Evan, who grimaces. _“I_ believed me.”

“You're both idiots.” Zoe says, nonchalantly, and picks up her racket, again.

~

Dinner is less tense than the night before, and maybe it’s because Cynthia took Larry over the other side of the campsite with all the spa treatments and yoga shit, or maybe it’s because Zoe has yet to tell them about how Evan accidentally capsized their canoe in the shallows of the lake. Or maybe it’s because Evan and Connor were missing for a full two hours and he got used to the quiet.

Anyways, Cynthia’s chatting happily about her face mask to Evan, who looks politely intrigued, and Larry’s mumbling things under his breath about a ripoff massage or something like that, and Connor’s actually considering heading over after dinner, just so he can do yoga, because yeah, it's dumb, but he actually, genuinely likes yoga.

Of course, all thoughts of this fly out of his mind when the waiter sets down more dinner rolls, and he and Evan meet eyes across the table.

There's a moment of silent understanding between them, in that moment. Evan stands, abruptly.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” He blurts and rushes from the table. Connor stands.

“Me too.” He says, much more serenely, and follows after Evan.

“They're probably going to make out or something,” he hears Larry mutter as he leaves and barely stifles a laugh at the thought of what they're actually doing.

Evan tugs him into the cubicle the minute he arrives. “We have to get as many of them out of here and into our cabin as possible.” His tone is all business and Connor grins.

“You're the cuter one out of the both of us.” Connor informs him.

Evan scoffs, but there's a blush rising in his cheeks. “Am not, but I'll do it. Waiters seem to have a thing for giving me leftovers. Always have.”

“I'll return to the cute thing, again.” He adds. Evan pushes him into the toilet paper dispenser.

“Whatever.” He rolls his eyes, grinning.

Connor straightens his jacket. “Just try and wheedle as many of the rolls out of them as you can.”

Evan nods, face serious. “Mission: Hoard Dinner Rolls is go.”

~

"This is harder than rom-coms make it out to be."

"I dunno, you seem to be doing a great job of it. Considering you just got caught out in the rain, arms full of the leftover rolls from dinner, so that we could eat them in the middle of the night."

"I'm afraid most of them didn't make it."

"Dammit. Alright, strip, Hansen. You're shaking."

"That happens, when you're drenched, outside, in the middle of winter."

"I don't see you stripping."

"Picky, picky."

“Connor? Evan?”

"MOM!"

"Oh, I'm sorry boys! I was just coming to check on you! The rain was coming down hard and-"

_"Mom."_

"Sorry, leaving now. Stay safe, boys."

"..."

"Well, at least your mom believes us."

“I never needed your mom to see that much of me.”

“It was just your chest, chill. It's not like she saw your junk.”

“She probably thinks we’re gonna have sex.”

“That's what they think we’re doing all the time.”

“Whatever. I'm gonna go get a towel. You get rid of the evidence.”

~

“We forgot the pillow wall.”

“We were preoccupied.”

~

After an almost frighteningly rigorous amount of rock climbing, with Zoe, the next morning, Connor sneaks the car keys out of Larry’s bag, and gives Zoe a piggyback ride out to the parking lot, with Evan trailing along behind them, trying not to look suspicious.

It was actually Evan’s idea.

Connor doesn't remember his exact words, but he was really craving fish and chips, and Evan had suggested they just leave the campsite and go to get something greasy to eat.

And Connor wasn't about to tell him ‘no’.

(“Are you good with fish and chips?” Connor had asked, on their way up the cabin, to steal the keys. Evan had snorted. “Restrictions are pretty lax; I mostly keep kosher at home, besides the obvious. I'm all good.”)

So, they steal the car to go and get fish and chips.

Zoe hijacks the AUX cord, and, to Connor’s honest surprise, it doesn't suck.

~

Larry is understandably furious when they get back.

He mostly focuses most of his anger on Connor, however.

Eldest privilege, Zoe used to call it. Maybe she still does. Connor’s not sure.

"What is there was a fire?" Larry asks.

 _“‘What if there was a fire’?”_ Connor scoffs. _“That's_ your argument?"

"You stranded us at the campsite!” He throws his hand sup in frustration. “If something bad happened here, we wouldn't be able to leave!"

"You have legs." Connor points out and Larry glares.

"Connor what if you'd crashed?" Is his next excuse.

He shrugs, arms crossed defensively over his chest. "Then we'd be dead in a ditch. Simple as that."

"Connor!"

"We're not dead, we drove out to get fish and chips, and drove back." Connor continues, really not willing to put up with his dads shit right now.

"You endangered your sister and Evan." Larry says.

He's had enough. "Who both consented to get into the car!" Connor cries.

"You're grounded!" Larry yells.

"I'm twenty-one, dad!” Connor turns for the door, totally done with all of this. “Fuck off!"

Larry lets him go, and that's the surprising bit.

~

All three of them skip dinner to go and do five consecutive rounds of trivia and win most of them.

Zoe wins them free drinks from the bar after she wins the music history round. Evan’s vaguely shocked that Connor completely aces the pop culture round, and Connor’s not even surprised that Evan knows everything out the musical round, or the Disney round.

They leave at around eleven pm, and Connor sleeps on the couch because he's too tired to put up the pillow wall, but too conscious of how close he could get to Evan in his sleep, and afraid of what that would mean for their relationship - whatever it is at this point.

~

"I'm serious," Zoe cries, flailing her arms around, the water splashing in her attempts to stay afloat and speak at the same time. "I could do it."

"I don't doubt it," Connor replies as he swims past. "The question is 'should you'."

"You seriously think she could lift you in the air like Patrick Swayze from _Dirty Dancing?"_ Evan asks, sitting beside the pool with his feet in it.

"She could try. That's the important thing." Connor corrects him. “I could lift her. I could lift you.”

Evan shakes his head, immediately dismissing the idea. “I’m not Jennifer Grey, I’ll never be Jennifer Grey.”

“You could be Jennifer Grey; she had weirdass face surgery and Jennifer Grey doesn’t even look like Jennifer Grey anymore.” Zoe says, hitting Connor over the head with a pool noodle.

“Well, you’d better hope you’re not Patrick Swayze,” Evan tells her, with a frown, as Connor resurfaces, “because he’s dead.”

Connor grabs her waist and lifts her easily over his head. Zoe shrieks and squirms and they both fall back into the pool. He resurfaces to the sound if Evan laughing.

Connor’s given almost no time to recover as Zoe grabs him and, in an attempt to lift him, knocks their heads together and sends them falling under the water, again.

This time, when Connor breaks the surface of the water to find Evan laughing hysterically, over their antics, he pulls Evan into the water and pulls him to stand in front of him.

“I'm not that coordinated-!” Evan begins but Connor’s already lifting him, and Evan goes stiff as a board, extending his arms out.

“There you go,” Connor says, arms shaking a little, “easy as pie.”

“Piece of cake!” Evan calls from over Connor’s head, and then Connor feels himself lose his balance.

“Fuck-” he manages to mumble before going under the water for what feels like the millionth time, that day.

It's Zoe laughing, this time, gasping between words. “That-” _wheeze_ “-looked-” _wheeze_ “-exactly-” _wheeze_ “-like-” _wheeze_ “-the-” _wheeze_ “-movie!”

“See?” Connor says, turning to Evan, who's crouching water out of his mouth. “You are Jennifer Grey.”

“You're not pretty enough to be Patrick Swayze.”

Connor dunks Evan, despite Zoe’s protests. “You're next.” He promises her, and she goes pale.

~

They're banned from the pool for disruption.

It's totally worth it.

~

“It's raining.” Zoe notes, setting down her book on Connor’s bedside table. Connor looks up from his own book. She seems to have the habit of just walking into their cabin, whenever she sees fit. To be fair, she's been doing it since they were kids. It's not like he expects her to have changed her habits simply because she's moved out. “What are we supposed to do now?”

Evan blinks at them both from the other end of the bed. Connor assumes it looks strange that they're so far apart on the bed. “We could play board games.” Evan suggests.

“We could break into the mini golf course.” Connor says.

Zoe and Evan stare at him, in silence. Connor doesn't even breathe, for a moment, as if they'd both pounce on him if he did.

“...I'm gonna stick with the board games idea.” Evan says, slowly, and Zoe nods along with him.

“Aw, c’mon, Ev.” Connor laughs, setting his book aside. “It would be fun!”

“So would be Monopoly.” Zoe says.

“God, please no.” He groans.

“Yes.” Evan says, and Connor sighs, knowing he's been beaten.

“I'm gonna beat you both into bankruptcy.” She informs them both, glancing back at the door.

“Spoken like a true baby-boomer.” Connor notes.

Zoe shrugs, tugging her cardigan tighter around her torso. “I'm just saying that I'll win.”

“You say that about everything.” Evan says.

“I only say it because it’s true.” Zoe points out. Connor thinks to their disastrous mini-golf outing.

“Fine.” He relents, and sees them both grin. “I'm ready to prove you wrong.”

~

“Evan…”

“What?”

“How many pieces of avocado toast did you just waste on that hotel?”

“Enough to have the entirety of Mayfair ready to fuck both of you up when you inevitably land on one of them.”

“Your boyfriend is diabolical.”

“He is. I'm so proud.”

~

Karaoke, as a concept in itself, was probably a bad idea. Connor still goes. It’s a mistake.

Zoe promises to buy his drinks, all night, and, just to spite her, he gets a lot of drinks. Connor doesn’t think he’s dumb enough to actually do karaoke, trusts his drunk self to not make that decision.

That is also a mistake.

“How drunk are you, right now?” Zoe asks him when they’ve been at the karaoke bar for about an hour. Evan isn’t in the booth; he went to get another lemonade.

“I’ve only had a few drinks!” Connor replies, and it’s probably too loud, but he says it anyway.

Zoe smirks, and eyes him over the rim of her glass. “So, drunk enough to have a killer headache, tomorrow.”

“What?” Connor didn’t miss it. He watches her shake her head, obviously picking something a little less frank to say to him.

“Drunk enough to actually sing something?” Is what she says.

Connor shrugs and sips the water that he has to down before he gets another drink (Evan says it’s better for him if he drinks water between each beer, and who is he to argue with Evan?). “I wouldn’t know what to sing.” He says.

“Check the book.” Zoe chirps, and slides the bulky, laminated binder across the table. “They’ve got everything.”

Connor sets his glass aside and flips it open, searching for a familiar band or artist or song. There’s stuff he’s heard of, Top Forty Hits from 2011, iconic 80’s bops. Nothing in particular sticks out.

Zoe sighs and gathers all the empty glasses. “I’m gonna take these up to the bar, save them the trouble, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Connor murmurs in response. Evan returns and slides into the booth where Zoe left it vacant.

“Decided to sing?” He asks, and sticks the stripey blue straw in his mouth. Connor is momentarily distracted.

“Oh, um, yeah.” Wow, drunk Connor is smooth as shit. He makes a resolve to never be drunk around Evan again. What if he let something slip? He purses his lips in confusion. _What_ slip?

“Hey, Mr. Face-Journey. You okay?”

Connor shakes it from his mind, smiling, dopily. “Yeah, I’m fine, I just…” He trails off, looking back down at the names. “They, uh...they have _Yesterday!_ By _The Beatles!”_

Zoe returns with a Coca Cola.

“Are you gonna sing it?” She inquires, taking a seat beside Evan. Her straw is red.

“Hell yeah!” Connor says, shuffling out of the booth with the book, hearing their soft laughter behind him and thinking nothing of it.

~

“Do you know the words to _Uptown Girl?”_ Connor doesn’t think that Evan’s expecting him to ask it, and it makes him smile to think that he’s maybe surprised him. Why is drunk Connor so easily amused?

“By Billy Joel?” Evan replies, setting aside his glass of melting ice cubes.

“Yeah.” Connor nods a little too vigorously. It makes him feel a bit dizzy.

“Who doesn’t?” And Evan smiles, the red mood lighting shining on his teeth. It’s a little mesmerizing.

“Will you sing it with me?” He asks, gripping the one laminated, vaguely bent, page of the karaoke book.

Evan laughs a little, a soundless chuckle, and nods. “Sure.”

~

“C’mon,” Zoe says, grabbing Connor’s hands and dragging him to his feet. “We’re gonna sing _California Dreaming.”_

“No.” Connor groans, finally feeling tired. “No more.”

“Yes.” She insists. “This is what we’re doing. It’ll be just like when we were kids.”

“Zoe.” He gives her a look that pleads for mercy. She gives him a vaguely sympathetic look.

“C’mon.” Zoe tugs on his arm, gently and Evan gestures for him to go

“Fine.” Connor says, and lets her drag him over to the stage.

~

“He has a nice voice.”

“He really does.”

“....”

“I wish you could see your face right now.”

“Why?”

“Because you look so enamoured with him. Like...like he hung the moon, or some shit.”

“He may as well have.”

“...”

“...”

“Oh, you’re fucked.”

~

Connor wakes up to sun on his face. It's nice. Until he registers the reason breathing is so difficult, and that reason is _Evan fucking Hansen,_ draped over his chest, drooling on his _Radiohead_ t-shirt. Connor stares. When did he get into bed with Evan?

He hears snoring to his left, and Connor turns his head to find Zoe also slumped on the bed, beside them.

What the _fuck._

Did he seriously get so smashed last night that he-?

Oh _god,_ he sang _Yesterday_ in front of his fake-boyfriend/crush, and sister, while drunk. Any pretence of not being a music nerd is gone. And, even worse, he and Zoe sang _California Dreaming_ together.

They haven't done that since they were kids going on a road trip in the car with their parents mixtapes.

Connor feels Evan shuffle a little, the weight on his chest gets a little lighter, and then Evan blinks awake. He seems comfortable for a moment, before looking up and meeting Connor's eyes with his slowly-widening own.

They stare at each other for a good minute.

Was this breaking a rule? Connor actually can't be sure.

All Connor knows is that if they were together - and the tiny part of his brain, the part that’s only loud enough to be heard at the beginning of the day, is yelling this loud and clear - he would kiss him.

Suddenly, Zoe knees him in the thigh, and Connor yelps in pain, flinching away from her, and inadvertently throwing Evan off of him, and onto the floor.

There's a loud thump, and an "ow" from the carpet and then Zoe is sitting up, rubbing her eyes and looking at Connor in confusion. "What-" she says, voice raspy, before Evan sits up and gives them both a glare.

“Thanks for the w-w-wake up call, dipsh-shit.” Evan croaks, rubbing his eyes.

"Why is Evan on the floor?" Zoe demands, and then gives Connor a once over.

"You kicked me, and I threw him off of me." He replies, simply, and yawns.

"Why was he-?" She gasps, as if betrayed. "Ew! When I was still in the bed? That's so gross! What if I'd woken up, guys? Jesus!" Zoe leaps off the bed, and hurries out the door of their cabin, slamming it behind her.

“Morning Zoe’s volume control does not take into consideration that other people in the general vicinity may be asleep.” Connor murmurs as he listens to her stomp across the porch and away from their cabin, entirely.

"What was that about?" Evan inquires, climbing back up onto the bed. He takes the place where Zoe had been lying, and from the way he smiles, contentedly, it's still warm.

"I think she thinks we were gonna have sex." Connor informs him, stretching a little.

"Oh, Jesus. She's right, that is gross." Evan mutters.

"Well, may as well keep up the pretence." He says and settles back into the dent he made in the mattress.

"What?" Evan replies, tiredly, as if he doesn't understand and doesn't know whether he wants to.

"I'm going back to sleep." And he does just that, turning over and closing his eyes.

~

The drive home is much more composed.

There are less mix CD’s, and his parents let Zoe control the music for most of the trip. Evan and Connor play a short-lived game of I-Spy which is ended after Connor guesses “the asshole in front of me” for “I Spy something beginning with A, it's in the car”.

(It was actually the apple sitting in the tray on the console, but Connor only finds that out at the next rest stop, because everyone falls into silence after Larry yells “shut up!”)

Connor’s relieved when they're dropped off at the apartment building.

Evan sighs once their suitcases are at their feet, and Larry drives away. "That was fun, let's never do anything like that ever again.” He yawns, picking up his suitcase. “That was both physically and emotionally draining."

Connor nods, and follows him inside, hand grasping his own suitcase.

~

“Thank god.” Connor groans, as he sets his bag down beside the couch in Evan’s living room. “I'm just gonna pass out here, if that's alright with you.”

But Evan grabs the front of Connor’s t-shirt, just under the jean vest that Zoe despises, and drags him into a room that Connor’s never been in before. There's a queen sized bed there, with blue IKEA sheets, and shoes scattered around the room.

“We’ve endured enough together. If you’re going to pass out, at least be comfortable.” Evan mumbles, stutter absent, and tosses himself onto the covers, burrowing into the patterned sheets. Connor doesn't want to sleep anymore, and, yes, he’s thinking about if it were all different, if he could climb onto the bed, after Evan, holding himself over him, and kissing him.

He sits, carefully on the edge of the bed, back to Evan’s back. The mattress dips under his weight, and Connor bends, carefully, to untie his boots and place them carefully beside the bed, and pulls his jean vest off.

“Connor?” Evan asks, quietly, and Connor twists to look at him. Evan never closed the curtains, so the moonlight is shining on the floor, and slants up the bed and half onto Evan. Half of his face is in shadow, and the other is almost too brightly lit.

“Yes?” Connor replies, and feels his socks, the cute blue ones that Alana bought him, the ones with the 8-bit stars on them, with the almost worn-through heels, slip on the hardwood flooring of Evan’s bedroom.

Evan looks at him through the moonlight and he wants to climb over him, close the curtains and kiss his questions away, in the darkness, where he doesn't have to look at the things he's denying.

“Lie down?” It's not an instruction, not even a suggestion, just a question, ended with the extension of Evan’s hand, inviting him to who knows where. Connor’s not sure that he cares, at this point; too far gone on the fatigue, and the faint headache, and the moonlight. Especially the moonlight, especially the moonlight reflected in Evan’s eyes.

Yes. Especially that.

Connor doesn't realise that his mouth has gone dry until he has to swallow in order to reply, “In a minute.”

“Okay.” Evan says, apparently unaware at Connor’s inner struggle with himself. He doesn't even know what he's struggling over.

Connor closes his eyes and counts his breaths as he breathes them. In for four, hold for seven, out for four. Repeat. Why does he need to think about his breathing? He's calm. He's beyond calm. He's practically meditating. “Evan?” He whispers and Evan rolls back over, stars practically sticking in his hair for all the good the windowpane is doing.

“Yeah?” He whispers back. Connor feels soft over it all.

“Thank you.” Connor says and Evan smiles, universes in his teeth, nebulas in his eyes.

Connor falls back into the pillows, and dreams of floating through space, his only tether to Earth, the boy on the other side of the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Hmu on Tumblr @nose-coffee if you wanna chat or whatever, and drop me comment if you're feeling it, to let me know what you liked.
> 
> Check out HamiltonTrash's fic "Be Found" if you like healthy representations of mental illnesses and fluff and stuff like that (maybe read the fic that came before it?) idk
> 
> Thanks!


	3. not somebody just to get me through the night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor," Evan sighs. "I can't do this anymore."
> 
> "What?" Connor sits back.
> 
> "Pretend to date you." He clarifies. "I can't do it anymore."
> 
> "Why?" Did he read it completely wrong? Did he read _Evan_ wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from 'Way Back Into Love' from Music and Lyrics
> 
> IM SO SORRY THAT THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO OUT OUT!!!!!!
> 
> I love you all so much, you've been so supportive and helpful and amazing, so I hope this chapter doesn't let you down.
> 
> (Hey, @yakleaves did some rad fan art for the fic that prompted this fic, and you should check it out, as well as the rest of their blog, because their art is 10/10. Here's the link: https://yakleaves.tumblr.com)
> 
> Here we go, last chapter!!!!!

Connor wakes to an empty bed. There's a dip in the mattress, an indent where it's obvious that Evan had been lying, that he vacated not too long ago. Connor groans as he stretches, and presses the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“Morning.” Connor bolts up in bed at the noise, blinking blearily at the figure in the doorway. “You slept like a log.”

Evan slowly comes into focus, and he’s smiling. It’s not soft, like the way it was last night - sleepy and careless and shameless - but there’s teeth and there’s laughter in his eyes. His arms are folded across his chest. There’s a spatula in his hand.

“Are you making breakfast?” Connor asks, peeling back the covers and standing up. He nearly slips on the wood flooring, still wearing his socks from the day before.

“I am, and if you come out and get the syrup from the pantry you can even have some.” Evan leaves the room soon after and Connor wonders how Evan seems to become warmer towards him, overnight. Wonders how it happened.

Wonders when sharing a bed turned from a hindrance into something that Evan seems to enjoy.

Connor’s baffled, to say the least.

He meets Evan in the kitchen where he’s finishing off stacking a plate with pancakes. “There’s syrup in the pantry, and a bowl of lemon wedges in the fridge, if you’re interested.” Evan says to him, over his shoulder, as he turns the stove off.

Connor moves mechanically towards the fridge and retrieves the bowl from it. There’s condensation on the plastic wrap. Connor tries not to let his hand slip as he sets it down on the counter and crosses the floor to the pantry.

It feels very domestic; pancakes early on a Friday morning. He has work tomorrow, but he’s off for today, so he’s not worried. Connor wonders, absently, if there’s an alternate universe, a distant future, in which he can wake up to this all the time, or wake up early to do this for Evan. If there’s a chance that he could ever have this, for real, with Evan.

If there was, he’d fight for it.

Connor finds that he’s not all that shocked that he thinks that. That he wants that. That he wants Evan, for real.

He shakes his head of it, and sits down at the island bench, placing the syrup between them, beside the lemon wedges and stack of pancakes. "I think we only barely convinced them." Connor states, stabbing a pancake with his fork and lowering it, carefully, onto his plate.

  
Evan snorts, doing the same and reaching for the syrup. “Thanks for your faith.” He says.

“Faith in what?” Is Connor’s response, while he picks up the syrup bottle, after Evan’s use.

“That I'm cute enough to distract them from the continuity errors of our supposed relationship.” He's still half asleep, and adding the way that Evan is actually adorable when he stuffs his face full of pancake, means that there's a moment of silence while Connor focuses and registers what Evan just said.

“I have plenty of faith in that,” he allows, slowly, and cut methodically at his pancake, “but I still think it was a near miss. We didn't even kiss.”

Evan gives him a thoughtful, albeit content, expression, and leans his elbow on the table. Connor’s mother would have a heart attack if she saw. Connor eats the bite of pancake he cut and stops himself from literally pulling the whole stack towards himself. "There's gotta be a sure way to let people know we're a couple." Evan ponders, aloud, and eats his food as Connor works up the courage to say what he's thinking.

"PDA?" He murmurs, and quickly stuffs his face with pancake when Evan looks up abruptly.

"Well,” he seems to consider the comment, “I mean, I guess so, but..."

Connor scrambles to fix this, letting his cutlery clatter to the table. "If you're not comfortable with that, we don't have to do that-"

"No, I just mean.” Evan interrupts, quickly and goes red at the implication. They both sit back and Connor folds his arms over his chest. “We can't just bring it out, unexpectedly, we gotta, like...know boundaries and shit. You know? Like, what's alright, and what isn’t. Like. You know?”

“Barely.” Connor snorts, and turns back to his pancake. The sooner he finishes it, the sooner he gets another one. That's always been his philosophy.

“Connor.” Evan says, and his tone is serious, so Connor looks up like a kid caught with their hand caught in the cookie jar.

“Seriously.” Connor assures him, and finishes the pancake, already leaning over with his fork to stab a new one onto his plate. Evan’s pancake’s barely been touched.

“Yes. I know.” He sighs, and leans on the table, again, all business, this time. “So, what are you proposing?”

“Like, uh,” he flushes, “we need to practice…”

“Kissing?” Connor suggests. It only makes Evan’s blush worse.

“Yeah.” He agrees.

“Right.” He replies. “Well, how about after breakfast, we do that?”

Evan nods in agreement, and, just like that, the domesticity is gone, and they silently eat the rest of the pancakes.

~

  
It’s no less awkward, after breakfast, when Connor’s brushed his teeth, and brushed his hair, and _F.R.I.E.N.D.S_ is on in the background.

They're sitting on the couch, now, in the half-dressed, crumpled, yesterday-clothes that they slept in. Their legs are crossed and they're facing each other. Connor only barely missed sitting on the plant growing over the back of the couch. Evan primly avoided it, with practiced ease.

Connor guesses he's had a lot of experience around not squashing his plants.

“So.” Evan says, and the audience in the sitcom roars with laughter, and it rings in Connor’s ears.

“So.” Connor echoes. He honestly doesn't know why he had to go and ruin the fragile existence they'd created between them, during the week in the wilderness, during the night where Evan could’ve been the Big Bang and completely obliterated Connor, and there wouldn't be anything left of Connor to care, because Evan is...well.

Now, in the morning, with no moonlight slanted over the other boy's face, it's embarrassing to admit that Evan could be anything, could be everything. He doesn't want to be embarrassed of that. Pushes it to the back of his mind. Forgets.

“How does this work?” Evan fidgets, hands in his lap, rhythmically lacing his fingers together and then apart, and then together, and again, and again, and Connor’s very nearly mesmerised. “Like, do we have to talk this out, or-”

And, apparently, his subconscious said, _“Fuck it,”_ and said, _“Screw forgetting,”_ and said, _“Don't be a fucking coward, Murphy,”_ and Connor doesn't wait for Evan to finish, and instead, leans, uncomfortably, on his ankles and kisses Evan. Right there. On his couch. In the clothes they slept in. With _F.R.I.E.N.D.S_ in the background.

Evan pulls back, almost immediately, and his eyes are so wide, and he's so frozen that he looks like a deer in the headlights, like a spooked animal that's about to run.

Connor’s heart is racing.

Evan gets up and sprints out of the room.

Connor sits back against the couch, and puts his face in his hands. He's not even remotely surprised that he's fucked this one good thing up. He was surprised in the first place, that he'd end up like this, anyway. Surprised that out of everyone, Evan picked him.

Whatever. He just fucked it over.

~

Ten minutes later, when Connor’s done freaking out, and telling himself that he's messed it all up, he sits down, in the hallway beside the bathroom door, and sets the mug of peppermint tea (Evan’s favourite, if Connor remembers correctly) down on the floor and knocks on the door.

There's a clattering noise, like the sound of a toothbrush being dropped onto a vanity. In fact, exactly like that. “I made you tea, to apologise.” He says, through the door.

“Thanks.” Evan says, voice vaguely muffled, and a little amplified. The door doesn't open.

Connor swallows, still feeling sick at his brashness. “I'm sorry, that was really abrupt of me, and I didn't even ask you if it was okay, or have your consent, or anything, and I'm really sorry about that-”

“-Connor, you don't have to-”

“-Evan, I never should've-”

“-Just listen!” Connor falls silent, and watches the door go taut, as if Evan were sitting against it. “It’s fine. I was just shocked, okay? I'm fine. Are you okay?”

“I could be much worse.” Connor replies, and smiles, ruefully to himself.

“That's not on the scale.” Evan retorts, and this is probably the first time that Connor’s heard Evan actually mad. He's never given him a reason to be mad, before. He hates this, he really does, but he has to work it out, like a real fucking relationship.

Because, in a way, this is a real fucking relationship, and they can't keep the whole act up, while being wildly dysfunctional and messed up, on the side.

“It doesn't matter.” Connor says, on impulse.

“It matters to me.” Evan replies, almost as fast as Connor’s statement came.

“I'm fine.” He huffs, letting his head fall back and hit the wall.

“Could you say that to my face?” _Come out and make me say it to your face,_ he wants to say, and bites his tongue, instead.

“I don't know.” It's a lie. He already hates lying to Evan. He wants to promise that he'll never lie to Evan. Wants to keep it. Never wants a door to separate them, like this, because Connor made a stupid mistake and became the cause of Evan needing time alone.

Connor wants to fix this. Knows that Evan already thinks it's fixed.

“Whatever you did just then, on the couch, if we need to demonstrate how well our relationship is going, you can do that, with my full consent, that I’m giving right now, and unless I tell you otherwise, that's always the rule.” Evan says from the other side of the door, pulling Connor from his melancholy.

“Okay.” He sighs, shuffling against the floorboards. “I'm gonna go back to my place, now. You'll call me if you need me, or anything, right?”

“Of course.” Evan says it as if it’s obvious.

“Good.” Connor gets to his feet, and gives the door a long look. “I'll see you later, Evan.”

He leaves without another word, and pretends to not notice when the bathroom door opens, as he closes the front door, behind him.

~

“Alana, be serious!” Connor exclaims, as she flattens his collar.

“I am,” she replies, curtly. “This may not be the first time you’ve met his mother, but you still want to make a good impression.”

“I did make a good first impression on Heidi! The first time I met her!”

“Post-sex with her son?”

“Don't talk to me about sex with Evan.”

“I'm just saying!”

“I actually thought you’d be a little more averse to this, considering how pissed you were when you thought Evan and I slept together.” He says, as she moves away, to the bar stool, on the other side of his kitchen bench.

Alana raises a quizzical eyebrow. “Did you?”

“Huh?” Connor’s a little caught off-guard by the comment, and he watches her pick up her water bottle, taking her sweet time with sipping at it, before she answers.

“Sleep together. That night.” Connor blanches a little. Because that’s what she thought, wasn’t it? That he and Evan - that they - that Evan...Connor can’t finish the thought, and can’t stop the blush that rises on his cheeks. “‘Cause the story you’ve been telling sets that event about two or three weeks into your relationship. I know I joke, but if you didn't, or haven't, I will back off.”

“Um.” Connor says.

“Connor?” Alana watches the movement of his teeth as they bite at his bottom lip.

“Alana.” She scoffs, capping her bottle and crossing her arms over her chest.

“You can’t tell me that you don’t remember.” Alana says, matter-of-factly. “Unless you guys have sex a lot, and you actually don’t remember.”

Connor feels his cheeks and neck burn warmer and grips at the kitchen counter until his knuckles go white and he pulls away to relieve the numbness of his fingers. “Look, it was the early stages of the relationship, and I had no self-control, and I lied to you, because we were still really unsure as to where we were in the relationship, and didn’t want to make any big decisions or anything, so, yes, I lied to you, but really it doesn’t mean I don’t love you, Lon, I really do, I just-”

Alana cuts him off with a splayed palm. “I’m gonna stop you before you unload all the details I don’t want to know about on me.”

“Details?” Connor cocks his head to the side.

“Of the sex.” Alana replies, with an eyeroll. “I don’t want to know. At _all._ Though, it’s good to see that Evan’s having an effect on you.”

“What effect?” Connor looks down at his hands and laces the fingers together.

“You just started rambling like he does when he’s nervous.” She points out, and slides over the counter, sitting, with her legs dangling over the edge, in front of him. “Why are you nervous? It’s just me, Connor.”

“You just seemed pissed when you thought I was taking advantage of Evan,” He tells her, wincing a little at the implications. At the idea that Evan would let Connor take advantage of him, at all. Connor shakes his head of it. “And that’s fair enough, but I didn’t want you to continue thinking that.”

“It’s _okay,_ Connor.” Alana takes his joined hands and separates them gently, giving them both a soft squeeze before releasing them. “You’re fine. You’ll be fine.”

Connor gives her a soft grin. “Thanks, Lon.”

She nods, giving him her signature smile, and jumping off the bench, brushing down her skirt. “And, look, I don’t know Heidi, but she sounds great, and I’m sure it’ll all turn out, fine.”

Before they can say any more, there’s a knock at the door and Connor straightens his shirt. He shouldn’t be this nervous. He shouldn’t. “That’s Evan. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Alana punches him, lightly in the shoulder. “And the next time you and your boyfriend decide to go at it like bunnies, have consideration for your keys, yeah?”

Connor laughs, and it even sounds genuine to his own ears. “Yeah. You’re the best, Lon.”

~

“Can I come visit you at work?”

“I mean, you can show up, but I'll be working back of house, so you won't see me.”

“What if I went into back of house?”

“You'd have to wear a hairnet.”

“Ugh.”

“No, it's settled; you're gonna take the day off tomorrow and come into work and wear a hairnet.”

“You're really set on this, aren't you?”

“Yep.”

~

"I'm not saying this isn't cool,” Connor says as Evan passes him the pizza sauce and a soup spoon. There's a plain pizza base on a tray in front of him. “But why didn't you just order pizza?"

"Homemade pizza is so much nicer than store bought.” Evan replies, sprinkling cheese all over his base. “Plus, you can put whatever you want on it."

"You can do that with store bought, too.” Connor points out, and carefully squeezes pizza sauce onto the base. “And it's less expensive."

"Whatever, I grew up poor, so I'm over store bought." Evan says, and elbows Connor in the ribs.

"I grew up rich, so I'm also kind of over store bought, but this seems awfully convoluted."

"You privileged white boy." Evan snorts, and reaches past Connor for the olives.

~

  
“You've never seen _Star Wars?”_ Connor exclaims, through a mouthful of pizza. Evan gives him a look that's halfway between amused and worried.

“Yeah?” He replies, and finishes off his own pizza, putting the plate down on the coffee table.

Connor shakes his head, and turns to the TV, “Fuck Chris Pine, you haven't lived until you've seen the Orig Trig.”

Evan stifles a laugh. “Orig Trig?”

“You heard me.” Connor says, and walks across the room to his tiny DVD collection. “And if I hear the words ‘A New Hope’ in this apartment, consider yourself, fake-dumped.”

He can hear Evan laughing on the couch. “Seriously?”

“What can I say? I'm a _Star Wars_ Purist.” Connor says, sliding the movie off the shelf and shuffling over to the player to eject the _Star Trek_ reboot.

~

They're about halfway in when Evan gets a text. He swears a little.

“Oh, shit.” A second later, he's off the couch and running across the room, to the door. He didn't pick up his shoes, so he's not leaving, but Connor also has no idea what Evan’s doing.

“What are you doing in someone else's apartment, Acorn?” Asks a vaguely familiar voice from the doorway.

“Haven't I-? Oh, right, you've never met Connor.” Evan sounds nervous. Connor sits up, properly, preparing himself, mentally, if Evan’s friend decides to meet him. “Well, you see, this is Connor’s apartment, and Connor’s my boyfriend.”

“When did this happen?”

“A few months ago?”

“And you didn't tell me?”

“I thought you knew. I told you that I was going away for a week, I even said I was going away with my boyfriend and his family.”

“Was that when I was drunk?”

“When aren't you?”

“Good point.” A pause. “Is this his apartment?”

“Yeah.”

“He's in there?”

“Yeah.”

“Alrighty, Acorn, time for me to judge this mere mortal who you've bestowed your affections on.”

“Jared!”

The guy who walks in Connor recognises as the guy who lives above him, and the guy who has the loud insistent parties at ungodly hours of the morning. He's wearing a graphic t-shirt and cargo shorts.

“Huh.” Jared says, folding his arms and looking Connor up and down. Then he looks to Evan, who's come back into the apartment. He nods, as if coming to a decision. “Y’ain’t dating.”

Evan gets a panicked look on his face. “W-w-what?”

“Evan, you're cute, and all, but you couldn't score someone this hot.” Connor’s actually not sure whether this guy is joking or not. “You’re living a bold faced lie.”

Evan’s gone red. “Jared, please,” he says and Connor frowns at the both of them.

“Is he serious?” Connor asks.

“Dead, my friend.” Jared responds, and winks. Connor cannot take this guy seriously. At all.

Connor frowns. “As am I. Evan is currently in a relationship with me.”

“His Facebook doesn't say so.” Jared says.

“You have a Facebook account?” Connor inquires.

“From high school!” Evan says, voice too loud. “I had two friends! My mom and Jared! And I lost the password!”

“Whatever. This is so weird.” Jared waves a dismissive hand and turns to face Evan. “Why have I never heard of him before?”

“You were drunk, said so yourself.” Connor says.

“Listen here, smart guy-” Connor’s had it, so he swoops in and nabs the glasses right off Jared’s face. “-hey, fuck! Gimme back my glasses!”

“Yeah, no, you're harassing me and my boyfriend, I'd like you to apologise and then leave.” Connor replies, sliding open the window and climbing out onto the balcony. He dangles the glasses over the railing.

“Connor! What are you doing?” Evan cries, behind Jared who's forcing his way through the window. He obviously doesn't use his own balcony all that often.

“Ensuring that this douchebag takes me seriously.” Connor replies, breezily.

“Those are expensive as shit, if you drop them, I fucking swear, I'll shank you.” Jared warns and reaches past Connor, trying to snatch his glasses out of Connor’s grip.

“Connor just give them back.” Evan says, crawling through the window.

“Not until he backs off!” Connor yells.

“You're acting like a fucking elementary school bully-” Jared insists.

Evan pushes at both of their shoulders. “You aren't respecting privacy or consent and-”

Connor cuts off because Evan grabs his chin and pulls him forward, kissing him on the mouth, with a kind of conviction that swears imminent pain. Connor immediately drops his hand to the side and feels Jared take back his glasses.

“I am so fucking done with your M. Night Shamalan plot twists, Evan. Next time you have a secret boyfriend, could you at least let me in on the secret?”

Connor rests his hands on Evan’s waist. Evan pinches Connor’s chin until he tilts his head a certain way. Evan deepens the kiss.

Jared makes a gagging noise, behind them. “At least take a breath!” He says. Connor barely holds in a snort. “Alright, I get the idea, I'm leaving.”

Connor keeps kissing Evan until he hears the door close. They break apart. The only noise is the wind and the faint sounds of Star Wars, still playing in the living room.

Evan tasted like olives and sun dried tomatoes.

Evan blushes. “Sorry. I knew he wouldn't stop. He gets uncomfortable about PDA.”

“It's fine.” Connor assures him, rubbing the back of his neck. “We should go back inside.”

“We should.” Evan agrees.

~

"Alana." She looks only mildly unhappy with him waking her up this early.

"What's up?" Alana replies.

"I fucked up." At this, she laughs. As if she's not even surprised, as if she expected nothing less from him. Connor’s not that offended, truth be told.

"Is this about Evan?" Alana asks, leaning on the door jamb and letting her oversized _ABBA_ t-shirt slide down one of her shoulders.

"Most definitely.” Connor agrees. He doesn't know why he woke her up at three am, but maybe it’s because it’s Christmas, and Evan went home to his mom (apparently Hanukkah isn't the most holy day, but it's still one that they celebrate, so he and his mom spend the day together, for that). Maybe it's because he’s alone and feels guilty and doesn’t know if he can take it and thinks that maybe he'll burst if he doesn’t say anything. “Look, Alana, I lied to you."

At this declaration, she pauses. "Um...?" Is her eloquent reply, ceasing the way she's spinning her glasses between her fingers. She puts the glasses on, instead.

Connor takes a breath, hopes Evan doesn’t murder him for this. "Evan and I aren't dating."

Alana stares at him, silently.

"We're pretending to date. We're fake dating. I had to tell you." Connor wrongs his hands. Alana stares?

"...that is...the saddest fucking thing I've ever heard.” Alana says, and sighs, opening the door wide. “Come inside, drink some eggnog, tell me your woes, and how exactly you got yourself into this mess.”

~

Four hours later, they're back in Connor’s apartment, and only because Alana insisted on a Holiday High, and there's insistent knocking at the door, that could only be Zoe.

And it is. They exchange gifts, quickly,mat the door, she makes brief comment of Evan’s absence and the redness of his eyes, he makes comment of her hair, and she leaves again.

Connor turns around and Alana is gaping at him, the card castle she'd spent the last hour building a smattering of cards on the coffee table and carpet.

"WHO WAS THAT PRETTY ASS GIRL?" Alana cries when Zoe’s definitely gone, two minutes later.

“My sister.” Connor replies calmly.

“I’M GOING TO MARRY YOUR SISTER, CONNOR MURPHY, MARK MY WORDS.” Alana says to him, and turns back to her ruined card castle.

~

Connor watches Evan walk into his apartment (he gave Evan keys a week ago. To keep up appearances. Duh. Not because he likes the idea that Evan can use his apartment as freely as he uses his own.) and watches him slowly locate Connor, on the balcony, holding an unlit joint between his fingers.

There's a moment of silence.

“Don't tell mom.” Connor whispers and Evan’s face breaks out into a grin. It hurts Connor’s chest, makes it ache, like his ribs are slowly pressing into his lungs.

Evan climbs up onto the balcony with him, and sits opposite him, back against the safety railing.

“Wanna try?" Connor asks and he watches Evan mull it over.

“Is it kosher?” Evan replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

Connor blanches. “I have no idea, I'm sorry-”

But Evan’s laughing. “It was a joke, seriously.”

Connor picks up the lighter from the balcony floor and meets Evan’s eyes over the flame as he lights it.

He takes a small hit and exhales. “You ever done this before?”

Evan shakes his head.

“Cool.” Connor takes another hit and laughs. “I'm taking your weed virginity.”

Evan laughs, too, somewhat nervously, eyeing the joint. “You're not high enough for me to for-forgive you for saying that.” He informs Connor, the edge of a stutter warning Connor to be careful of what he says.

“Want me to shotgun you like a bad teenage rom-com?” He sets the joint aside on an ash tray, shuffling to get a little more comfortable on the cold concrete of the balcony. “I could be the bad boy who seduces you.”

“You don't have a motorbike.” Evan snorts. “Not nearly bad enough for me.”

“Aw, c’mon, Sandy.” Connor pushes a hand through the front of his hair, in a bad parody of a Greaser. His voice lilts at the end of the sentence like a dated John Travolta and Evan rolls his eyes, grinning.

“Nope. I'm too sweet to be coaxed into being a stoner.” He says, hugging his sky blue jacket around him. He's shivering, minorly, and Connor should usher him inside before it starts snowing. Whatever.

“Suit yourself, Sandra Dee.” He picks up the joint, and raises it to his lips, before it’s snatched from his fingers. Evan gives him a bashful smile in response to Connor’s curious expression. Everything’s starting to get hazy.

“Hey, the only virginity I'm lousy with is weed.” He says, loftily.

“And bacon.” Connor points out and then holds back a laugh at Evan’s shocked-yet-amused face.

“Oh my god, Connor.” He giggles, joint held lazily between his middle and index fingers.

“Sorry.” Connor mumbles, giving the barely-there view a glance.

“No, that was funny.” Evan assures him, and a warm hand lands on his bicep. He turns to see him giving the joint a considering look.

“You want a turn?” Connor asks, and Evan holds it up to eye level.

“I think I get the gist.” He replies. And then gives Connor a knowing look. “No shotgunning.”

“You do you, Hansen.” Connor says, and watches Evan raise it to his lips, inhaling, slowly. “You'll probably cough up a lung-”

 _“-gosh-”_ Evan says, between coughs, and Connor laughs, met by Evan’s ensuing glare.

“-there it is.” He says.

~

“Wanna paint my nails?” Connor asks, once the blunt is gone, and they’ve moved back inside, to thaw out.

Evan shrugs.

~

“You're really good at this.” Connor says, and doesn’t mean to sound surprised.

“Thanks.” Evan replies, finishing the final coat on Connor’s right hand. “I guess I have a natural talent.”

“Sure.” Connor watches Evan with a soft gaze and cocks his head to the side. “So, you have a tree fetish?"

“No!” Evan cries, pulling away, but laughing. Obviously, he’s high enough to not really feel embarrassed over the question. Connor smiles.

~

“What do you think about apple crumble?” Evan murmurs, apparently no longer enthused with _How I Met Your Mother._ It’s one of the overplayed episodes, anyway.

“That she's gorgeous.” Connor responds. “She still refuses to marry me, though.”

“Oh my god.” Evan cackles, falling off of Connor’s couch.

“I'll help you.” Connor offers, and pulls Evan into his feet. He's grinning.

~

“Another spoonful of flour.” Evan gestures to Connor, who's standing beside him, with the flour, and the sugar, and the butter, and he swears that there's a song about this or something. It'd have a nice ring to it, he's sure.

“Is this really how you make apple crumble?” He questions, not because he doesn't think that Evan knows how to make apple crumble, but because with the circumstances, he's not entirely sure that Evan is making an apple crumble. He may well have peeled apples, but how can Connor even know for sure?

“Well, I'm sorry that it's not up to scratch with your weed brownies, but I try my best.” Evan retorts, snatching the spoon of flour from Connor’s outstretched hand, and ultimately covers his face with flour. Connor chokes on a laugh.

~

“And now we wait.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I have _SingStar.”_

“Seriously? Which ones?”

“80’s, Pop, _ABBA,_ Disney, _Queen,_ and a couple others.”

“There's no way we’re not playing 80’s.”

~

 _“Don't go breaking my heart.”_ Connor had let Evan talk him into singing the Kiki Dee part.

 _“I won't go breaking your heart.”_ Connor had complained that Evan just wanted to be Elton John.

 _“Don't go breaking my, don't go breaking my heart.”_ Evan never denied it.

 _“I won't go breaking your heart!”_ Connor doesn't mind.

~

_“AND SHE’S BUYING A STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN.”_

~

“I never went to my senior prom.” Connor says, while a snippet of _‘Walking On Sunshine’_ goes around and around on the _SingStar_ menu. “Didn't know what I would wear.”

“Me neither,” Evan replies. “I didn't want people to look at me. Plus, I was too chicken to ask anybody. My mom made us tacos, instead, and we watched _27 Dresses,_ which was only mildly anxiety-inducing.”

“I got high and passed out in the park across the street.” Evan smiles, sadly, at him.

“I should have invited you to watch _27 Dresses_ with us. You would've had fun. We had licorice allsorts.” He says. Connor nods.

“I would've liked that.” He agrees

“Hey, Connor?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think we would have been friends,” and Evan’s eyes are shining, “back then?”

“I'd like to think so,” Connor tells him, the tugging him into his arms, “but I have no idea.”

“I think we would've been.” Evan whispers, and Connor watches him fall asleep, and he can't bring himself to wake him up.

Instead, he tucks him into his bed, turns off the TV, gets the apple crumble out of the oven, and puts it in the fridge. Connor tries not to think about all of the things he learnt about Evan.

About how the scar on the side of his left middle finger, the one that runs the length of the finger itself, is from the time he broke the swing at the park when he was five, and got his hand tangled in the broken chain. About how he used to have _Ninja Turtle_ night lights, because he was terrified of the dark, and he was convinced that they'd keep him safe from the bad guys.

About how his dad left when he was seven and never really gave them a proper explanation as to why, and never really spoke to them, again.

Connor knows so many things, and feels a little empty, from sharing as much, himself.

Anyway. It doesn't matter. Or it shouldn't. But...it's not like the day after they came back from the camp. He just feels vulnerable, and scared. But, with Evan, it's almost as if he doesn't have to feel scared.

Connor sets up the couch and leaves the hallways light on when he switches the others off.

He doesn't sleep.

Hopefully, Evan doesn't freak out, waking up in a bed that isn't his.

~

On New Year's Eve, Connor wakes up in bed with Evan. This isn't uncommon, as of late, but it's still a little shocking to him. That his dorky, stuttering, next door neighbour, who sings show tunes in the shower, and buys the most expensive apples at the grocery store because they taste the best, and watches _Wicked_ bootlegs when he's sad, and buys plants impulsively - it's shocking to Connor that he's progressed so far as to wake up in bed with this boy.

The saddest part about this, of course, is that he's not really Connor's boyfriend.

Connor wishes he was. But Connor wishes a lot of things, and he knows that if he says them out loud they won't come true, so he doesn't dare to even think of them.

On New Year's Eve, Connor wakes up in bed with Evan, and hears knocking at his front door.

Connor carefully extracts himself from Evan's death grip and unlocks the door.

There's Zoe, _Tears For Fears_ shirt half untucked from her grey jeans, hair pulled back into the messiest bun he's ever seen, slatted Ray Bans pushed impatiently out of her eyes.

"Put on some shoes and grab your keys, you're driving me into town." She tells him curtly.

"Good morning to you too." Connor yawns in response, stretching.

Zoe wrinkles her nose at him. "And put on a shirt, Jesus."

"Can't come out right now, too asleep." Connor replies, leaning on the door jamb. "And who the fuck goes into town on New Year's Eve? Everything's closed."

"Not everything. I made an appointment." She informs him, thumbs looped through her belt loops.

"Appointment for what?" He narrows his eyes at her.

"Drive me and you'll find out." He considers it for a minute, and then shakes his head.

"You have your own car. You probably drove here. Why do you need me?"

"You're my brother."

"And?"

"I want you with me. It's important to me."

Connor rubs his face with the back of his hand. He's still way too asleep to be having a conversation. "You want me to drive you to an undisclosed location in town, at ass-crack-o'clock in the morning, for a mysterious appointment, and leave my boyfriend in my apartment?"

"It's ten thirty." Zoe says.

"Jesus Christ." Connor sighs.

"And I'm not worried about Evan in your bed. God knows he spends enough time there, anyway." Connor glares at her for the implication, because if he didn't glare, he'd blush, and that's worse, because who blushes over the implication that they sleep with their boyfriend, four months into their relationship? "Please drive me?"

"Give me ten dollars and I'll do it."

"Seriously?"

"I'm gonna buy coffee with it, yeesh." Connor huffs. "You really want me to be a productive human being right now?"

"Fine." Zoe mutters, handing him a ten dollar bill from the back pocket of her jeans. He's actually a little surprised that she has one on her. Maybe she was expecting it.

"Okay, gimme a minute while I get a shirt and shoes." Connor leaves the door swinging. "Come on inside."

Connor stumbles back into his bedroom, and is momentarily overtaken by the image of Evan apparently making a nest in his bed sheets. Evan also neglected a shirt last night. They were having a movie night with Alana and did a test over who had the best abs.

Alana won.

("I should be getting back," Evan says, pulling on his shoes. Alana's draped over the couch and appears to be watching them, upside down. All their shirts are scattered around on the living room floor.

"Don't." Connor replies, flicking the kettle off and pouring water into Alana's mug. "It's cold. You'll freeze."

"It's a five second walk!" Evan protests, stooping to pick up his t-shirt. Connor hands Alana her tea and she immediately sets it down on the coffee table muttering, "Hot, hot, hot."

"Please stay?" Evan pauses, holding the corner of his t-shirt between his thumb and index finger.

He sighs heavily. "Fine."

Alana shoots fingerguns at Connor and winks at him. He flips her off and follows Evan into the bedroom.)

He picks a shirt up off the floor, one of Evan's larger ones with the Slytherin emblem on it, and pulls it over his head. Connor has no idea when bunches of Evan's stuff migrated to Connor's apartment. Then again, there are a few pot plants on his counter, and there's undoubtedly countless amounts of Connor's socks and hoodies under Evan's bed, or under the couch cushions in Evan's apartment.

Connor pulls some clean socks out of the drawer and pulls them on before his Doc Martens that are on their last legs. (Heh.) He's had them for ages, so if they die now, he'll know they lived a good life.

Evan mumbles something and turns over.

His eyes are narrowed, but open, bleary, and he stares at Connor for a moment.

Connor hears the creak of a floorboard outside the doorway to his bedroom, so he already knows Zoe is watching them.

Connor leans down and kisses Evan's hair, softly.

"Hey." Evan rasps.

"Hey yourself." Connor murmurs in response. "I'm going out with Zoe, but I'll be back soon, yeah?

"Bring me back a coffee?" Evan smiles, sleepily at him, reaching up to run his hands down Connor's arms. He almost shivers at the raw intimacy of the moment. Sometimes, he wonders what's fake and what's real with Evan. Sometimes he simply can't tell.

"As His Majesty commands." Connor responds, and squeezes Evan's shoulder before retreating from the room.

Evan's always oddly soft in the mornings. Not physically. Soft in the way that he doesn't look anxious at all, like he's floating in a state of wonderful carelessness.

Zoe falls into step beside him as the exit the apartment, Connor's car keys twirling around his index finger. "You know," she begins, "sometimes I completely doubt that you two are together. And then I see you do things like that, and it's almost impossible for me to ever think that you aren't. You're just so good with him."

"I'm glad you think so." Connor replies, and swallows the lump in his throat that threatens to choke him, because he didn't know he wanted something real this badly.

He pushes it to the back of his mind.

He forgets - for the moment, at least.

~

The address Zoe gives him leads them to a hairdresser.

"Really?" Connor asks, not angrily, just a little perplexed.

"I'm going for a fresh start here." Zoe replies, looking a little nervous, herself.

"How much?"

"What?" She turns to him, and he can see her hands shaking.

"How much are you cutting off?" Connor reaches over the console, and takes her hand.

"I think I wanna go chin length." Zoe replies, and squeezes back when he squeezes her hand.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Mom’s gonna freak." He tells her.

She grimaces. "It’s not her hair."

He shrugs.

"I'm gonna follow you in, and then, before we leave, I'm gonna pick up some coffee from the place across the street." Connor says, undoing his seatbelt and taking the keys out of the ignition.

"You're whipped." Zoe snorts.

"Or I just really care about my boyfriend." He replies.

She shrugs, "That too."

"Both?" Connor compromises.

"Both." Zoe nods, and gets out of the car. "You should get something done. For the new year, you know?"

"Oh yeah?" Connor follows her up to the door. "And what exactly would I do? I'm not cutting it short, if that's what you're thinking."

"I have a few ideas." She replies.

~

Connor leaves Zoe at Alana's door - because, apparently, they're friends, now - hair cut off to her chin. He has two coffees in his hands, and so has no way into the apartment without putting one or both of them down and risking kicking them over.

He knocks on the door with his head. Zoe snorts as she's let into Alana's apartment, and Connor hear's Alana's surprised, "Your hair!" before the door closes. He has no idea what to think of that.

(He doesn't know when they started hanging out, but he's seen Zoe at the library more and more frequently, these days, so that may be it.)

Evan answers the door, seconds later, wrapped in a sheet, looking dead.

"Welcome." He says, and moves aside to let Connor in.

"Wearing anything under that sheet, O Unconscious One?" Connor inquires as Evan closes the door behind him and takes the offered coffee from Connor's hand.

"Wouldn't you like to know." Evan replies, sipping his coffee and closing his eyes, face turning serene.

Connor follows Evan back into the bedroom. "Jared's party is tonight." He says.

"I know." Evan groans, putting his coffee on the bedside table before flopping down on the bed. He looks like a weirdly wrapped burrito. "I'm dreading it."

"Why?" Connor sits down on the bed beside him, and pats what he hopes is Evan's leg.

Evan rolls over, and out of the sheet, immediately scowling at the temperature. He's still not wearing a shirt, and wearing boxers that look like they're not doing him much good at all. He rolls until he's lying diagonally on the bed and Connor has to turn, crossing his legs on the bed, to see him. "Drinking, dancing, dumb 70's remixes."

"Lots of 'D's." Connor comments as Evan sits up.

"Yeah." Evan laughs a little and then sighs, turning around to look at Connor. He looks kinda nice like this, surrounded by crumpled white sheets, shivering in the just-too-cold air. "I dunno. I think I wanna sleep for the day so that I'm emotionally charged for it."

"Don't let me stop you." Connor replies and climbs off the bed, to kneel beside it. He begins to dig underneath it while saying, "I have an electric blanket if you want to use it."

Evan hangs over the edge of the bed and says, "You're the best fake-boyfriend in the world."

Connor retrieves it and plugs it in for Evan.

Tries not to think of the emphasis Evan put on the word "fake".

~

"Jared, what the shit is this fuck?" Connor cries as the newest remix swings into play.

 _"Hotel California,_ you uncultured swine!" Jared calls back, from where he's lying over the coffee table.

"Play the proper fucking version! The members of _The Eagles_ who are dead did not die for this!"

"Yeesh, fine, Murphy."

Connor grabs a half-conscious Evan off the couch, mumbling about Jared's awful fucking taste, and _where the fuck did he find these shitty ass remixes?_

"Connor?" Evan mumbles, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with hands that are still holding Connor's. He's fucking adorable.

"Hm?" Connor's a little preoccupied looking at the cushion scar running down the left side of Evan's face from where he had been pressing his face into the couch cushion.

"What's going on?" He asks, as Connor twirls him around and tugs him into his chest. He makes no sound of protest as the opening strums of Don Henley's guitar begin playing over the speakers.

"My song is on." Connor responds, easily, smiling toothily, in a way that he only does when he's not scared of anyone seeing.

"I thought your song was _99 Red Balloons,_ in German." Evan responds, letting Connor sway them.

"This is _also_ my song." He amends.

Connor tugs Evan in close until he can lean his head on Evan's shoulder. Evan's hands are splayed over Connor's shoulder blades, arms bent over Connor's shoulders. Connor's hands are curled in the material at the end of Evan's t-shirt, scrunching until he can feel the heat of Evan's skin at his knuckles. It's nice.

Evan hums half of the song, and mumbles the other half, further proving to Connor that he actually only knows half the lyrics to _Hotel California,_ which, were Connor sober, would make him distressed, or angry, but, instead, endears him. Evan's a strange work of art that Connor's yet to find the background to.

 _"Sweet summer sweat...some dance to remember, some dance to forget."_ Evan sings, softly, in Connor's ear, and, Connor remembers how much of an awesome voice Evan has. Why does he only ever hear it when he's stoned or drunk?

Connor needs to hear Evan sing more.

"Why do you dance, Connor?"

"What?"

"Why do you dance? To remember, or to forget?"

"To fall in love."

"What?"

"I love dancing. I dance because I love it, and I dance to make people love me, and I dance to fall in love."

"Oh."

"Why do you dance, Evan?"

"I don't, usually."

"But if you did."

"I don't know. I think I'd have to spend more time dancing."

"Maybe I could help you with that."

"Maybe you could."

_"Last thing I remember..."_

"Connor?"

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me?"

And Connor does.

He can't say no to Evan, and he doesn't want to.

_You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave._

~

Later that night, Evan's passed out on the couch again, this time covered in a blanket, with his head pillowed by a cushion rather than his hand.

The apartment is pretty much empty now. Everyone's gone home. Except for Connor and Evan. Alana and Zoe went back to Alana's a little after midnight. (Connor's still not sure what’s happening there. Maybe Alana’s making good on her promise to marry Zoe.)

Connor's sitting on the bench in the kitchen, opposite Jared, who looks like he's barely upright at all. They're both holding helium balloons.

Jared opens his and breathes in the helium, before looking Connor dead in the eye and saying, "I think you and Evan are really good for each other."

Connor laughs at the obscurity of the statement paired with the pitch of Jared's voice. He breathes in some of his own helium, and responds in kind, "How so?"

Jared bites at his top lip, looking vaguely uncomfortable. Like he's not sure he should say anything more. "I haven't heard him stutter in ages." Jared says, and Connor immediately thinks of when they met.

 _"Oh, do you want me to c-c-call a locksmith?"_ Connor remembers how embarrassed they both had been, how Evan had scrambled to fix the sentence, and not end up on the phone like he clearly dreaded. _"Or, I could just lend you my phone - doyouwannaborrowmyphone?"_

"Oh my god." Connor says, blinking at the tiles of Jared's kitchen tiles. When was the last time he'd heard Evan stutter?

"I don't know where you came from, or what you did to him to make him so chill, but I want you to know that I'm glad." Jared takes another breath from the balloon. "I've known him since elementary school and he's never been like this before. Never seen him so unconditionally happy."

"I...don't know what to say." Connor says, thumbing the end of his balloon.

"That's fair, you're drunk." Jared says, laughing a little.

"So are you." Connor points out. Jared points at him with the hand holding his balloon.

"Touché." He laughs.

Connor rolls his eyes, mockingly, and says, "It's pronounced _'tooshie'."_

There’s a long pause as they both giggle.

"Just don't..." Jared sighs. "Don't hurt him."

"I'd never dare." Connor insists.

"Good." His voice is hard for a moment. And then, softer, "Good."

The moment feels too heavy. "I know we're trying to have a serious conversation, but every time you speak, all I can think about is;" Connor breathes in deeply from his balloon and says, _"You're about to witness the wrath of a god."_

Jared falls off the counter, laughing, “You sound like Mickey Mouse!”

~

It's dumb. It really is. It's only a few days after the kegger at Jared's house, and he knew the moment that they were kissing to _Hotel California,_ at the end of the night, no one left at the party who needed convincing, that they were fucked.

And now.

Fuck.

Because they're at dinner with his family and Evan's mom at some fancy French restaurant and they both just reached for the salt shaker and now-

Connor knows he's definitely fucked, and every dumb rom-com will attest to that, because the moment he touches Evan's hand and looks up into his eyes, he knows he's in love with him.

For real.

Nothing fake about how he feels about Evan, not now.

_Fuck._

~

Connor slams the door behind him and leans on it.

"Um, Connor?" He looks up, and there's Evan, standing, so out of place amongst the rest of Connor, in his living room.

He's fiddling with the end of his scarf.

"Yeah?"

"I think we really need to talk," Evan says. He looks nervous.

Who knew a salt shaker could ever make them this nervous?

Maybe the salt shaker’s a euphemism.

"Yeah." Connor repeats and follows Evan into the living room. Connor seats himself on the worn ottoman by the coffee table. Evan drags the newer one over to him.

"Connor," Evan sighs. "I can't do this anymore."

"What?" Connor sits back.

"Pretend to date you." He clarifies. "I can't do it anymore."

"Why?" Did he read it completely wrong? Did he read _Evan_ wrong?

"Don't you know?" Evan asks, going pale.

"I have no idea what you want. I'm not a mind-reader, Evan!" Connor cries.

"How can you not know? I'm in love with you! Why the hell-?" Before Evan can finish the sentence, the breath being knocked out of him and Evan's lying flat on his back on Connor's living room floor, Connor leaning over him.

"Could you shut up for one second?" Connor asks, exasperatedly, and then - and then - Connor leans down and kisses him.

Evan gasps, and immediately grabs Connor's forearm.

Connor pulls back, but Evan grabs a fistful of his hair from the back of his head and pushes him back down.

It's Connor's turn to gasp, but he kisses Evan back, tilting his head just so, deepening it.

Connor has always thought that kissing was a closed-lip activity, but he finds it hard to keep his mouth closed, right here, with Evan panting hotly into his mouth, while he's bracing himself over Evan with a hand scrunched in the carpet.

There's Evan's teeth, smooth where they graze Connor's top lip, and there's Connor's other hand, moving to cup Evan's cheek, and slide behind his head to further support him.

Connor's going to get a crick in his neck from kissing Evan like this, and he can't care, because there's nothing but the heat of Evan's mouth, and the flutter of his eyelashes on Connor's cheeks, and his hand in Connor's hair.

He could spend every waking minute kissing Evan.

Unfortunately, breathing takes priority.

Connor breaks away and presses his forehead to Evan's. "Sorry." He pants, but he doesn't feel the least bit sorry. He's smiling.

"I'm not." Evan replies.

Connor's smile widens.

"Does this mean we can stop pretending?" Evan asks him.

"Huh?" Connor replies, oh-so-eloquently.

"To be in a relationship, I mean." He clarifies, lacing their hands together. "Can we just be together?"

"Hell yes." Connor responds.

"Okay." Evan rolls them over, very nearly knocking Connor's head into the coffee table. He kisses Connor firmly on the mouth, straddling his hips with his thighs and cupping his face. "Cool."

Connor smiles at him.

"Oh, and by the way, what's up with the back of your head?"

"Huh?"

"There was like, no hair there."

"Oh, yeah, Zoe convinced me to get an undercut."

"A what?"

"Check it out."

"Oh my god, you dork."

 

**Fin.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU FOR READING!!!!!!
> 
> If you liked this, please leave a comment and/or kudos, and hmu on Tumblr @nose-coffee if you wanna chat or anything.
> 
> Other notes: if you're looking for something a little more introspective, angsty, or gory, please check out the collaborative work I'm writing, with @HamiltonTrash and @ls201! It's called "if only i could not see it".
> 
> Thank you all, so much!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I have no idea when the second part will be up, but I hope soon. I have a bunch of it written already, as well as parts from part three. I'm all over the place, tbh.
> 
> Anyway, if you liked this, please leave a comment and/or kudos. Please tell me what you liked what you'd like to see more of, and such. Hmu on Tumblr @nose-coffee. I'm down to chat or whatever.
> 
> Side note: please lemme know if my portrayal of Jewish characters or customs are wrong or something, because I did research, but I don't want to offend anyone or anything.
> 
> Again, thanks.


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